


fireflies where my caution should be

by popkin16



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: AU where Scott doesn't live in LA yet, Bottom Ryan, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Timeline What Timeline, Witch!Shane, light kink, lightly beta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27147184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popkin16/pseuds/popkin16
Summary: Shane didn't mean to keep it a secret. By the time he'd thought about telling Ryan they'd been friends for a while, and how do you slip that into conversation? Too early and he'd have scared Ryan off. Too late, and he'd be upset because Shane didn't tell him sooner. It was too complicated and too personal for Shane.So he just...didn't.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 190
Kudos: 305
Collections: The Ghosts Are Watching





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ★ Join the [Shyan Shipping Society](https://discord.gg/G3EfhGUZ9h) on discord to chat about the boys, writing, and many other things!  
> ★ I did very little research on witchcraft and just made stuff up as I went along. So if you're a practicing wiccan, I apologize. Just roll with it?  
> ★ I never intended to actually post this but the lovely people the Shyan shipping discord server encouraged me to do so. [Escriveine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/escriveine/pseuds/escriveine) and [squidgie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgie/pseuds/squidgie) held my hand through writing this entire thing. I send all the love to the discord and my two supportive buddies for this.  
> ★ Because I never intended to post this, I didn't do any research re: timelines. Was TJ already married by 2019? I don't know. Is TJ even married? I also don't know, though I *do* know he has a kid. Basically, if I mention something that happened after 2019, oops.  
> ★ The title comes from _[a softer world](https://asofterworld.com/index.php?id=938)_.  
> ★ If your name is in the tags or you know them personally, DO NOT READ THIS.

On rainy days, Shane liked to open his windows. He’d always loved a good rainy day, and LA had so few of them that keeping the windows closed felt wrong. Shane would lay out towels on anything near the windows, just in case, and welcome the smell of rain and wet cement. He’d let the wind carry some of the rain inside, splattering against his clothes, wetting his hair. He’d listen to the sound of it falling and imagine this is what Ryan got from those ASMR videos.

When the first rumble of thunder sounded, Shane put the kettle on. While the water warmed, he padded to the closet next to his bathroom and grabbed a couple of towels. Obi wound his way around Shane’s legs as he walked down the short hallway before abandoning him for the comfortable bed. Shane carefully moved his plants to the floor, singing _Believe Me Maizey_ to them under his breath as their leaves rustled. Shane spread the towels out over the bookshelves, taking care to drape them so no water would fall between the bookshelves and the wall beneath the window. Then he returned the plants to their original locations, arranging them so each would receive the full effect of the rain.

The kettle sounded at the same time the lightning began. Shane made his tea with practiced movements, his mind finding that place where his thoughts were quiet and his body at ease. This, to him, was like meditation. His recordings of rain mixed with thunder were a cheap facsimile of the real thing, a taste instead of a feast. Shane dragged one of his kitchen chairs to one of the windows and settled into it just as the first patter of rain fell. He sipped his tea and closed his eyes. The wind blew just right, sending a small amount of rain through the window, onto his plants, onto his clothes.

Shane’s mouth curled into a pleased smile. He fell into the storm.

* * *

When Shane opened his eyes, an hour and a half had passed. The storm was little more than spent grey clouds now, and already sunlight was beginning to peek through. He glanced down at his cold tea and frowned. He gently pressed one finger to the rim of the cup and traced the edge. After a moment, a lazy curl of steam rose from it. Shane slowly drank until it was completely empty, and only then did he check his phone notifications.

_Seven texts from Ghoulfriend_

_dude its storming out (4:39pm)_

_damn thats sum loud thunder (4:45pm)_

_awesome weather 4 scary moves tho (5:03pm)_

_U interested? (5:04pm)_

_Shane? (5:15pm)_

_Fiiiine, ill watch by myself :\ (5:37pm)_

_Rude (5:38pm)_

**_Jesus, Ryan (7:08pm)_ **

**_Can’t a man have some alone time (7:09pm)_ **

_Oh sorry didn’t mean to interrupt your ‘alone time’ ;) ;) (7:10pm)_

**_I was napping (7:10pm)_ **

_Suuure big guy (7:11pm)_

**_Nevermind, I don’t want to watch horror movies with you (7:12pm)_ **

_Fine, guess ill eat all this popcorn alone (7:13pm)_

**_...add beer and you got yourself a deal (7:14pm)_ **

_On my way with the goods :DD (7:15pm)_

_Your going to wash your hands before you eat tho right? Im not sharing a bowl with you otherwise (7:17pm)_

**_Ryan I swear to god (7:18pm)_ **

_(¬‿¬) (7:18pm)_

**_Stop with emojis! that’s MY trademark ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) (7:19pm)_ **

_No ( ͡👁 ͜ʖ ͡👁) (7:19pm)_

While Shane and Ryan joked about sex and masturbation all the time, they’d never really talked about their personal experience with it. Shane liked it that way. Maybe it was his midwestern sense of privacy talking; he just wasn’t comfortable talking about that kind of thing even with his best friend. Privately, Shane acknowledged it was mostly because Ryan often had a starring role in Shane’s late night thoughts, and he didn’t need to be thinking about that while sitting next to Ryan. He definitely didn’t need to know what _Ryan_ thought of when he touched himself. That way lay madness and awkward boners.

Shane made a face at the direction his thoughts were taking and set his phone aside. He glanced at the damp towels by his window and thought about cleaning up. But the storm had left him feeling relaxed and he kind of didn’t want to do much. He stood up to close the windows, but left everything else. It wasn’t like Ryan was going to be impressed by his clean apartment, anyway. There was no impressing Ryan, who already liked Shane as much as he was ever going to. Instead, he switched his television over to his roku and started scrolling through the options while he waited.

Ryan blew in like a fresh summer breeze. Shane had heard his phone chirp and assumed it meant Ryan had announced his arrival, but Obi had graced him with his presence, and everyone knows you can’t move once a cat is in your lap. It’s a law. So Shane was still slumped on his couch when the door opened and Ryan came in. He was already smiling as he took in Shane’s position on the couch, his eyes bright with humor.

“Don’t you look comfortable,” he said, setting down the shopping bags he’d had looped over his arm on the kitchen table.

“Mmm yep,” Shane replied. He stretched languorously, dislodging poor Obi. He groaned with relief - there was nothing better than a good stretch - before he heaved himself off the couch. Ryan was already helping himself to Shane’s appliances, well acquainted with everything’s location. The pan was on the stove, the bag of popcorn kernels ready to go. Shane pulled a six-pack out of one of the bags, humming approvingly at the choice. One of his favorites. He used the edge of his shirt to pop the cap for himself and one for Ryan.

“Thanks, man,” Ryan said, flashing him a smile.

“No problem, _bro_ ,” Shane said grandly. Ryan briefly wrinkled his nose in reaction, but the corners of his mouth were curled up and it made Shane huff a laugh. He leaned against his kitchen counter to watch Ryan work, idly drinking his beer. Growing bored with just watching, he dug through the shopping bags to find more snacks, a distinct lack of other beer, and a little Poe Dameron keychain.

“Oh my god,” Shane gasped, holding it up. “Where’d you find this?”

“At the grocery store,” Ryan said dryly. “You know, the same place I got all this food.”

“Where’s the other beer?”

“There is no other beer. They didn’t have my kind,” Ryan pouted. Shane didn’t think at all about kissing. No kissing thoughts here.

“So you got only mine?”

Ryan shrugged, his pout disappearing as quickly as it had come. “I like it, too.”

Shane frowned thoughtfully. He glanced at his fridge, one finger tapping against the counter. He knew he still had some beer, though he was pretty sure it wasn’t Ryan’s. With the storm and everything earlier, he was running a little low, but it wasn’t a difficult task...Finally, he sighed. Like this was going to go any other way.

“I think I still have a couple of your favorite brands in my fridge from last time,” Shane commented. He walked to the fridge and opened the door, bending over to begin showing condiment jars and other miscellaneous containers aside. His fingers brushed the bottles he was looking for, and the tips began to tingle and go cold. Shane peeled the labels off and left them in the fridge to throw away later.

“I thought I finished it,” Ryan frowned. “I distinctly remember -”

“Ah ha!” Shane said, pulling out two bottles. He waved them in Ryan’s face, grinning. He felt a little more tired than he had a minute before, but it was so worth it. Changing from one beer to another wasn’t really a complicated process.

“Sweet,” Ryan exclaimed, reaching out to grab one. He beamed at Shane. “Thanks. You always seem to have what I want.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re always leaving your shit over here,” Shane said. “I should start charging you storage fees.”

“Please, like your shit isn’t taking up room at my place,” Ryan said dismissively. Shane had no argument against that - it was true, after all, so he went back to playing with the Poe Dameron keychain.

“You gonna just look at it or are you going to put it on your keyring?” Ryan was studiously not looking at Shane, instead watching as the popcorn popped. He rubbed his hands together nervously, and Shane felt that warmth he’d come to associate with just Ryan, deep in his chest, expanding into his limbs. He wanted to step close and pull him into a manly hug. But Ryan was weird about touching between men, even accidental touches, so he did nothing.

“For me?” He asked, even though Ryan had made it clear. He tightened his grip on the keychain. It warmed slightly in his grip.

“I saw it and knew you’d want it for your creeper collection,” Ryan said. He turned the stove off and moved the pan to another burner. He opened the cabinet to the bottom left of the stove and pulled out their designated popcorn bowl. He continued to not look at Shane, his posture screaming awkward even as his voice sounded unconcerned.

“Okay, first, it’s not a _creeper collection_ , it’s a - a shrine. To my main man. The love of my life.” Shane grinned at Ryan’s delighted laugh. “And second, thank you.”

He reached out and clasped Ryan’s shoulder, giving it a small shake. Ryan’s eyes were bright, his smile pleased, his cheeks pink. He looked terribly sweet. Shane knew his answering smile was a little too wide, a little too delighted, but hell, Ryan _got him a present_. For no reason. The word ‘giddy’ might be an accurate description for how Shane was feeling right now, and he could only tamp that down so much.

“Popcorn is done!” Ryan said loudly. He tucked the bowl under his arm, against his hip, and grabbed the six pack with his other hand. Shane grabbed their open beers in one hand and the remaining bottle of Ryan’s favorite before following him into the living.

“Dude, what’s up with your windows?” Ryan asked, gesturing to the now closed windows, the towels, and the stray chair with a teacup resting on it.

“Nothing, I was just enjoying the storm earlier,” Shane muttered. He set everything in his hands on the table and settled into his normal spot with a happy sigh.

“That’s weird,” Ryan said, but he didn’t sound particularly bothered by it. Just another facet of weird, another oddity of Shane Madej. Ryan’s easy acceptance of Shane’s quirks were another reason he valued Ryan’s friendship. He never prodded unless Shane was upset. It made things easier.

“Yeah, weird,” Shane replied, and selected a movie he knew Ryan would hate.


	2. Chapter 2

On Sundays, like clockwork, Shane called his mom. It didn’t matter if he was on location, or in the midst of traveling - he made the time to call her. His family had always been close, and he missed the connection he felt when he was with them. That deep-seated sense of belonging, of knowing he was in the right place. Shane liked living in LA. He loved his job and his friends. But it was missing that certainty, and no amount of plants could fully replace it.

Also, the lack of seasons was downright unnerving.

“You’re coming, right?” Shane’s mom repeated for the third time. Shane rolled his eyes toward his apartment ceiling, but didn’t dare sigh. He was pretty sure his mom could still ground him if she scolded him enough.

“ _Yes_ , I’m coming. I come every year.”

“I know they keep you busy there,” Sherry fretted, “I guess I just think that this is going to be the year they deny your vacation. You do a scary themed show, after all.”

“I don’t think I’d describe Unsolved as _scary_ ,” Shane laughed, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “No matter what Ryan believes.”

“You know what I mean,” She chided him, and Shane made a noise of agreement. “Halloween is relevant to your show...brand, or however you want to word it.”

“Yeah,” Shane said, “But Samhain is important to _us_. I’ll get all our spooky content finished before I leave so the powers that be can’t say shit. Ryan will cover for me.”

“I suppose,” she sighed. There was a long pause. Shane sat forward on the couch, opening his mouth to say something, anything, before she started in on one of her favorite topics. God, why hadn’t he thought of something to say _sooner_ , it always snuck up on him.

“Are you ever going to tell Ryan?”

“No,” Shane said, the honest response slipping out while his mind spun its wheels. Of course she asked. She always did. “I don’t think he’d take it all that well.”

“ _Shane_ ,” Sherry said, exasperated.

“ _Mom_.”.

“We worry about you being all alone out there. The plants aren’t enough.”

Shane squirmed at the mom-induced guilt. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rallying as best he could, he tried to explain, yet again, why telling Ryan was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I appreciate that you want someone that I can share with,” he started slowly, picking his words carefully, “but telling Ryan I’m a sixth generation witch is - well, he doesn’t believe in witches, which is hilarious given his other supernatural beliefs. So first I’d have to prove it, and then he’d probably freak out, and even _if_ we could work through that, I’m not sure he’d be all that willing to connect with me. I think a part of him still thinks all witches are evil, like the church would have everyone believe.”

Shane’s mom scoffed loudly.

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t know any better.”

“Then teach him! Shane, you’re so alone out there. You’ve found a way to connect to nature while living in a big city, but you need human contact.”

Shane rather did need that human connection. But he wasn’t sure how to explain to Ryan how it worked. How connecting to nature connected you to the people around you, how you could feel them in a way beyond words, bone deep, past any barriers. Shane thought about the way Ryan used to flinch away from any intimate contact between them. He was much better about it, reaching out more, but...he just couldn’t imagine Ryan being okay with Shane knowing him so intimately. Shane’s magic swirled inside him, a reflection of his unhappy thoughts.

Shane shook his head even though his mother couldn’t see. He’d rather not shake up the status quo. So what if Shane was lonely? He was going home in a month, and then there was Thanksgiving and Christmas.

“At least find a local coven,” Sherry urged. He hated hearing her sound so worried, hated being a source of unhappiness for her, but he hadn’t found a coven he’d clicked with. Shane didn’t connect easily, and it put some people off.

“I’ll try,” he promised, and he would, but he already knew the outcome.

“That’s all I ask,” Sherry said softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Shane replied, and the beep of the call ending was the sound of loneliness.

* * *

One of the first things Shane did when he’d moved to LA, after getting all of his boxed up personal belongings into his apartment, was look for a hiking path. At home, his family lived on the outskirts of Schaumberg, surrounded by woods and acres of land. It was inconceivable to him to live somewhere without a place to retreat to when the world became too much. The place Shane had chosen was a bit of a drive but one he took gladly.

It was quiet. The paths were well tended but the woods to either side of it were wild. Shane liked to go at night, when there were fewer people and more animals, when he could hear the wind blow and his feet slap against the earth. He wore a headlamp to light his path, but it was really for any stray humans who might stumble across him. When Shane ran, the earth rose up to meet him, whispering about roots that might trip him, a small boulder he may run into, or a twist in the path to watch for.

He picked a path that wound around the park and deposited him back at his car. It was a little more hilly than he was used to, so his legs trembled with fatigue as he wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. He grabbed the water bottle he kept strapped to his thigh and drained what was left of it as he approached his vehicle.

When a stick snapped behind him, Shane froze. He breathed out slowly, trying not to tense up, and slowly twisted around to look behind him. Two glowing, yellow eyes stared out from a bush at about thigh height. Shane returned the stare for a moment, his heart rate slowing gradually. He sent a prickle of awareness its way, a magical poke if you will, and the big cat sent back _caution curiosity no harm not food_. Shane did his best to warn it not to head any closer to the city - _humans danger stay away no urgency_ \- and then climbed into his car. By the time he’d turned it on, the eyes were gone.

Shane debated heading straight home. It was late, he was tired, and he had work tomorrow. But he’d promised his mom he’d try, and if he didn’t do it now that he was already out of his apartment, it’d have to wait until next weekend. Plenty of time to come up with another excuse to put it off - but he’d promised. So, still sweaty and a little ripe, Shane headed for the city and a small business tucked away on a quiet backstreet.

The building was small and didn’t have a sign outside. The brick on the outside was weathered and worn, the colors muted. It’s sole window was covered with a blackout curtain. It was easy to overlook, and Shane supposed that was the point. When he stepped into the cool interior, no bell went off. It was quiet, though it always was no matter the time of day.

Immediately inside the door, to the left along the long wall, were the books. Books on anything witchcraft related, some of which were pretty esoteric even to Shane, who had grown up surrounded by things like this. He usually tried to at least glance through and see if anything called to him. Though Shane liked a good book, he’d never been all that interested in witchcraft books. Everything he knew, his family had taught him by words and deeds.

To the immediate right of the door was the check-out counter, empty of people. The register sat abandoned, though not unprotected. So Shane continued further back, weaving around the tables with crystals and pre-made amulets, spell ingredients in their little jars gleaming in the overhead lights. In the very back, behind a curtain, were the plants.

This was Shane’s favorite room. It was so humid back there he immediately began to sweat, his shirt once again clinging to him. He absently pulled at the front of it as he ducked under the hanging plants in search of Neha. Though the room wasn’t large, it _was_ crowded, and she was easily lost among all the colors. He found her kneeling behind a table, working steadily on harvesting. She spared him only a brief glance, her welcoming smile brightening her face.

“Shane,” she said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve come to request your hand in marriage,” Shane said grandly. Neha laughed heartily, like it was the funniest thing she ever heard. She used the edge of the table to pull herself to her feet, brushing her hands against the apron she had on to remove as much dirt as possible. Neha was short, almost a foot shorter than Shane, but he always felt small next to her. In a good way, like she was an older sister or young aunt here to guide him. Though he wasn’t sure about her age - she had a timeless look about her, like she could be anywhere from her twenties to her forties. Or maybe Shane just wasn’t good at guessing ages.

“Tempting,” she replied to his marriage proposal, “But I’ve got my eyes on someone else, thanks.”

“Oh ho,” Shane said with delight, practically bouncing on his toes with excitement. “Love has found fair proprietor.”

“Sure has,” Neha agreed, laughing. “And she’s a source of delight for me. But that’s not why you’re here.”

“No, wait,” Shane protested as she walked around him, heading back toward the main section of the store. “I want to know more.”

“As much as I’d enjoy telling you about my love life,” Neha sent him a pointed look, “I’m more interested in why you came tonight.”

Shane’s smile slowly faded, then twisted into a grimace. He shrugged his shoulders, fighting to continue looking at Neha. She stared at him for a moment, head cocked. Her brow was furrowed and she was biting her bottom lip. Her eyes went vacant for a long moment, like she was thinking intensely about something, staring off into the space Shane just happened to be occupying.

“You talked to your mother,” she said finally, knowingly. “Oh, Shane.”

“I promised,” Shane said, shrugging again.

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to open up,” she said softly. “I know it’s easier back home, when you’ve known your family and friends your whole life. But this could be your home too. You’re not giving up one to have the other.”

Shane knew that, he did. He wasn’t sure what’s holding him back from fully embracing LA. He had a good life here, but he missed home so fiercely. His mom seemed to think it’s because he doesn’t have any connections here, and maybe that’s it. But something in him kept insisting this is temporary, not built to last. Nothing here is really his in a way that couldn’t be easily replaced. His friends here would miss him if he left, but he had friends back home. His job was definitely more fulfilling, but Buzzfeed has other offices. Even Unsolved wasn’t his, not really.

Shane wanted roots, but he’s trying to grow in concrete.

“You can come to our next meetup if you’d like,” Neha said finally, smiling at him. “You know you’d be welcome.”

Flushing slightly, Shane nodded. Everyone had been very kind. Nobody had laughed at how awkward he was, and nobody mentioned the weird things he said. He just wasn’t good with people, too shy by far. At work, he’d _had_ to go in and interact with his coworkers. But he didn’t have to go to the coven meetings, and it made it easy to avoid the uncomfortable, out of place feeling.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling gratefully at Neha. She smiled back warmly, and Shane felt the curl of her magic settle in next to his. It felt good, and he drifted closer to her. She nudged his arm with her elbow, and her smile turned teasing.

“Now, are you buying anything or can we chat about your love life?”

“I see how it is,” Shane shifted on his feet nervously, “Yours is off limits but not mine?”

“You lead a much more interesting life than I do. I’m sure you meet all kinds of interesting people. What about that cute boy of yours, from the show -”

“I don’t have a boy,” Shane interrupted. He rubbed at his chin, his stubble scraping against his fingers, loud in the quiet room. “No boys here. But I _would_ like to make a purchase.”

Clearly reading the “off limits” signals Shane was putting out, Neha backed down. She reached out to squeeze his arm once, comfortingly, and then deftly changed the subject. Shane described the amulets and charms he wanted to create, and they had a friendly argument about which ingredients would work best, and whether he should go for strength or longevity.

When Shane left he felt just a little bit more grounded.


	3. Chapter 3

Some of Shane’s family members are very into the spiritual side of witchcraft. They talk about the veil between the living and the dead, how thin it gets around Samhain. Shane’s parents had always been more practical about things, focusing on what they can see and touch, the things they can have direct interactions with. They’d raised Shane and Scott to be the same. He’d never given it much thought until he agreed to co-host a show about hunting ghosties and demons. Shane’s biggest worry about these trips weren’t running into a vengeful ghost or wrathful demons, but more everyday concerns.

“Shane, do you have any of that poison ivy cream?” Devon asked, eying the unkempt yard around the house they were investigating. It was their last shoot of the season, filmed just an eight hour drive away from L.A to save on money. But Shane lived up to his boy scouts lesson and always came prepared, so he gamely handed over the cream.

The two-storey house was rundown - though not so much so that it’d become a hazard, the homeowner had assured them - and the yard had been left to grow completely wild. Shane didn’t see any poison ivy growing, but it was also dusk and everything was overgrown. A rusted swingset sat to the right side of the front lawn, its old swing moving in the slight breeze. Shane knew without looking that Ryan would have the heebie jeebies.

“Where do you even get that stuff?” TJ asked, accepting his own little jar. He opened it up and brought it to his nose, giving it a small sniff. He hummed.

“I made it,” Shane said, offhand, focusing on strapping the Go-Pro to his chest. He had to make sure the straps were fully secure or it’d fall right off him. He didn’t want to be murdered over breaking expensive equipment on a rundown property in a small town.

“You _made_ it? _”_ Ryan asked incredulously. Shane looked up to find them all staring at him, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, so? My mom makes a ton of this stuff back home. It sells pretty good.”

“No wonder this stuff works so well,” Devon said, “It’s your own secret recipe.”

Shane shrugged. “Over the counter stuff works, too.”

“Not as good as this stuff,” TJ said, holding up his little jar. “It’s fucking magical, man.”

Shane laughed brightly, clapping TJ on the back. He met Ryan’s eyes and sent him a wink, just to fuck with him, and delighted in Ryan’s bright smile. He was a little surprised when Ryan drifted closer rather than focusing on the task at hand. Their shoulders bumped and Ryan kept looking at him and smiling. It wasn’t great for Shane’s heart.

“You cook, you make medical creams, you watch boring documentaries,” Ryan murmured. “Look at you being a well rounded adult.”

“I can’t cook,” Shane protested. “I hate cooking.”

“You do better than I do,” Ryan countered, poking him in the arm. “You make actual meals and shit.”

“Man cannot subsist on Taco Bell alone,” Shane agreed. Unable to help himself, he reached out and patted Ryan’s belly with two quick taps, enjoying the warmth of his skin through the thin shirt. “It’s a good thing you work out so much.”

Ryan tilted his head back to laugh at the sky. Shane’s gaze slipped to his neck, at the inviting curve of it. Shane wanted _so much_. To nip at it, to press kisses to his adam’s apple, to nuzzle the warm skin and breathe him in. It took his breath away, this ceaseless wanting. It was a struggle to bring his gaze back up to Ryan’s face, his wide smile and bright eyes.

“We can’t all eat junk food and remain a beanpole,” Ryan said, reaching out to grab at Shane’s shirt with the tip of his fingers and give it a small tug.

“My one advantage,” Shane said dramatically. “Alas, my beanpole figure does not guarantee a healthy heart.”

Ryan hummed thoughtfully. “It’d be cool if you could eat anything you wanted and not worry about unhealthy, you know, side effects, or whatever.”

“Of all superpowers, that’s not the one I’d choose,” Shane said.

“What would you choose, big guy?”

“Hmm...I’d want something different, something unique…”

“Invisibility?” Ryan guessed. Shane made a face, though he didn’t outright disagree. It’s not that Shane wanted to disappear, exactly. Just that sometimes interacting with people was hard, and it’d be nice to be able to fade away and just be alone. Go unnoticed. Still, he didn’t wish for that all that often, certainly not enough to want that as a superpower.

“Are you guys going to help us haul equipment in or are we doing this ourselves?” TJ called out, hands on his hips. Ryan giggled an “oops” under his breath and Shane followed him to the car. As they carried everything in, Shane thought about what superpower he’d want if he could have one. He loved the little bits of magic that made up his life. He wasn’t like some of his cousins who wanted the flashy spells. All the same, it’d have to be something he couldn’t do now…

When Shane finally decided, they were just about to start their pre-shooting ritual. Ryan was pinning his microphone to the top of his shirt, slightly apart from everyone else. His lips were pressed together and his shoulders were tight. Shane made a point of drifting over, leaning down so he could be heard over the conversations about lighting and placement.

“Time control,” Shane muttered.

“What?” Ryan startled, pausing his microphone fiddling to stare up at Shane with a furrowed brow.

“My superpower,” Shane explained, “would be to control time. Think of how amazing that would be! I could pause time to take a nap, or fast forward through boring meetings. Awkward date? Over in a flash.”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Ryan grinned wickedly. It took a moment for Shane to catch on. He could feel his cheeks burning, but he’d be damned if he’d let Ryan besmirch his good reputation like this.

“Oh trust me, I’ve gotten no complaints,” He boasted. “Shane ‘Stamina’ Madej, that’s what they call me.”

Ryan made a high pitched, wheezing noise. He doubled over, pressing his hand against his mouth. He swayed into Shane’s side for balance and stayed there, pressed against him.

“Shane ‘Stamina’ Madej,” he squeaked.

“That’s me, baby,” Shane said too loudly. Mark glanced their way, raising an eyebrow. Shane smiled at him and waved while Ryan continued to make squeaky noises. Finally, he straightened up, wiping tears away from his eyes. Should Shane be offended that Ryan found that so funny?

“Must be all that running,” Ryan said finally, grinning up at him, looking like sunshine. He hadn’t stepped away when he straightened, and now they were standing with their arms and hips touching. Shane could feel little sparks where they touched. His magic was reaching out, curling around Ryan. If it could manifest as smoke, Ryan would be surrounded in a cloud of it. Shane started to reel it back in, wrestle it under control. It never misbehaved around anyone but Ryan, who couldn’t sense it, who didn’t know that if Shane let it slip inside him (dangerous territory, abort) he’d be able to read Ryan like an open book.

“Running is an endurance sport,” Shane agreed. “Also, though I know my personal life is endlessly fascinating, I can’t help but notice we’ve gotten off topic.”

Ryan’s face went blank for a moment, clearly trying to remember what they’d been talking about before. Shane’s blush was starting to fade, and with it any embarrassment, so he felt only amusement and a little pleasure that Shane’s theoretical skills in the bedroom had so distracted him from what they were talking about only two minutes before.

“Time control,” Shane reminded him. They still had not moved away from each other, and the others were finishing up the final touches.

Ryan’s face lit up with remembrance. “I’m guessing you mean everything would freeze but you?”

“Yeah, or what would be the point of controlling time?”

“Dude, you could totally freeze time, sneak to the kitchens, and steal all the best snacks before they’re gone.”

“It figures you’d think of food first,” Shane laughed, shaking his head in exasperation.

“I have priorities,” Ryan shrugged, though he was smiling. “The first thing you mentioned was naps.”

“I love a good nap,” Shane said. “There’s nothing wrong with a good nap!”

“I never said there was. Though I prefer my naps to be with someone, which won’t work if I’m the only one able to move.” Ryan looked a little disappointed at the thought, like this was a real ability they were discussing.

“No superpower should be perfect,” Shane said. “It wouldn’t be realistic.”

“Oh, is that what we were going for? Realism? Sorry, I thought we were going for the best version of totally real powers.”

Shane didn’t have a comeback for that but it wasn’t in his nature to let Ryan win without a fight. Shane opened his mouth to say something - he was sure his brain wouldn’t let him down - when TJ grabbed him by the bicep and dragged him over to the table they were using to hold their smaller pieces of equipment.

“Less flirting, more working,” he said firmly. “It’s time to start.”

Rolling his eyes, he circled around the table to lean against the wall. Ryan joined him after a moment, a respectable distance between them. Shane missed the warmth of him, even though it wasn’t cold in the house. Ryan was just...like the sun. And Shane was a flower desperate for the light.

When Devon hit play and the familiar voice of Amy Lee filled the room, Shane angled himself slightly away from Ryan. He ducked his head and tried to look casual as he pressed his hand to his mouth. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Shane’s magic was almost eager as he reached for it, as it filled his mouth and lent the words he whispered power.

Shane didn’t believe in ghosts and demons. He’d never taken the time to learn a banishment spell. He didn’t need them, had never needed one at any location they’ve visited. But many of the buildings they visited were run-down and left to rot. So Shane took a moment to use a spell many witches in LA used to clear the air of any impurities. It was mostly used to clear a home of the smog that lingered over LA, but Shane used it for mold, for dust.

For the benefit of his friends, who never seemed concerned about just what they might be breathing in.

Shane’s lips tingled as he spoke the last word. When he took a deep breath, it felt easier, fresher. The air smelled clean. Satisfaction made the magic within him glow. The song ended and everyone moved to take their places - TJ and Mark behind the cameras, Devon across the room. Shane settled into the chair next to Ryan’s, situated in the open doorway that led to the living room. He smiled and rubbed at his lips to help with the tingling.

When he looked over, Ryan was watching him touch his mouth, his expression unfamiliar to Shane. The moment lingered, time stretching like taffy. Ryan kept staring, and not Shane couldn't look away. Ryan seemed far away somehow, his eyes unfocused, his face slack. His lips were pursed just the slightest amount. Shane liked Ryan’s mouth, liked watching the way it moved when he spoke...

Shane’s magic surged, straining toward Ryan. It broke whatever spell Shane had fallen under - god, he’d been staring at Ryan’s _lips_ , in a room full of his coworkers and cameras. He was an idiot. Ryan was just lost in thought.

Shane stopped rubbing his lips as the tingling faded and his magic once again settled. Ryan’s eyes focused and flicked up to meet Shane’s for a breathless moment. And then Ryan turned away, the odd tension disappeared, and TJ called action.

* * *

When filming wrapped up, Ryan wasn’t any more jittery than normal. Shane’s favorite part about Unsolved was getting to visit historic buildings. His least favorite part were the times Ryan teetered on the edge of a breakdown, shaky and glassy eyed. It made Shane feel restless with the urge to help and no casual way to do it beside back pats and stupid jokes. It was always a relief to reach the hotel, where he could ply Ryan with beers until it was time for bed. Post-filming sleeping - that, Shane could do something about that.

And so he did.

It was easier when they used to share rooms to save on money. With Unsolved getting a bigger budget it happened less frequently, a foil to Shane’s otherwise brilliant plot to get Ryan Bergara to _sleep_ , damn it. Though Shane had long noted they always ended up sharing a room when filming a demon episode. He tried not to read too much into that - Ryan had already said on camera that he found Shane comforting, and demons always pushed him to that breakdown precipe. No, with the budget expansion, Shane had had to think quickly, and he’d come up with post-filming drinks in Ryan’s room.

Ryan used to suggest they have their drinks in Shane’s room, but he’d stopped after Shane had done verbal gymnastics to avoid it. It needed to happen in Ryan’s room, so Shane could sneak the herbal pouch he made for Ryan under the pillow.

Ryan was practically bouncing as they said goodnight to the others and walked further down the hallway to Ryan’s room. Ryan couldn’t stop crowing about the clear EVP they’d gotten, about the creepy doll that had fallen off a shelf when nobody was near it.

“You must live in constant fear if you think something falling down is a ghost,” Shane remarked as he followed Ryan into his bland hotel room. He watched as Ryan emptied his pockets onto the small desk by the bed. Keys, wallet, his phone, and the good luck charm Shane made for the group. “Is your apartment haunted, Ryan?”

“No,” Ryan glared, “It’s not fucking haunted. And I don’t live in constant fear.”

“Mhmm,” Shane hummed. “Sure. What do you do when a cup falls off the counter at your house?”

“Assume someone left it too close to the edge, asshole,” Ryan countered. He pressed his lips together to hide his smile as he dropped the equipment bag he’d been carrying on to the floor. He plopped down on his bed with a relieved sigh. “My apartment isn’t haunted.”

Shane stared at him for a moment, taking in his absolute certainty. After a moment, he cracked up, folding in on himself as he laughed.

“You totally investigated your own apartment, haven’t you? I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.”

Ryan’s cheeks turned pink. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Shut up, Shane.”

“Oh, Ryan,” Shane wheezed, his voice warm. “I’m amazed you stay the night at my apartment without knowing for sure if any ghosts share it with me.”

“Yeah, well, I figure they lived with _you_. You’ve probably pissed them off enough to make them leave.”

“Damn straight!” Shane said proudly, spreading his arms out triumphantly. “Ghost proof!”

Ryan scrunched his face up. “You are not!”

“Prove it, baby!”

Ryan grabbed the pillow off the bed and whipped it at Shane. It smacked him in the chest and fell to the floor. Shane leaned down to pick it up and contemplated throwing it back at Ryan. After a moment's consideration, however, he instead hugged it to his chest, sending Ryan a smug look.

“My pillow now.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Give it back.”

“Nope. You’ve abused me for the last time. I’m keeping your tools of torture for myself.”

“Shane,” Ryan whined. “I need it for sleeping.”

“There’s another pillow,” Shane said, running one hand over the soft pillow while the other hand cradled it.

“I need _both_ ,” Ryan pouted. He made his eyes big and pleading. It was absolutely ridiculous, a look no grown man should use, and Shane gave another thought to throwing the pillow at Ryan’s face.

“Unfair sportsmanship,” Shane said, pointing vehemently in Ryan’s direction. In response, Ryan’s expression fell, until he looked small and sad. Before he turned his gaze to stare despondently at his lap, Shane swore his eyes looked shiny and wet. Shane made a noise of disgust, of defeat.

“Bad sportsmanship,” he repeated. “Give me a beer and I’ll give you the pillow.”

Ryan beamed and leaned over to grab the shopping bag full of beer they’d bought before returning to the hotel for the evening. He removed one from the plastic ring and held it out to Shane, who grabbed it with one hand and deliberately threw the pillow behind Ryan, onto the far corner of the bed. Even so, Ryan’s smug smile didn’t fade.

“Like you even know what good sportsmanship is,” he said, popping the tab on his beer.

“I do! It’s, uh, being fair. And...respectful.”

“Sure, sure,” Ryan nodded, “tell me more, big guy.”

Shane sniffed. “I’d hate to deprive you of the opportunity to do some research. Maybe take some time off from spooky stuff and learn some things.”

“I need to learn some things. Related to sports.” Ryan shook his head and wheezed into his beer can. “You are so full of shit.”

“S’why my eyes are brown,” Shane agreed, taking a swig of his own beer. He perched on the edge of the desk in the room, feeling exhaustion sink into his bones. Even his magic was curled up in him, small and still. It was going on four in the morning, and checkout was at eleven. He’d have to leave soon.

Almost as if Ryan heard Shane’s thoughts, he downed the rest of his beer in two big swigs. He burped loudly and crushed the can in his fist. Shane rolled his eyes as Ryan stood and threw the can back into the bag with the other four beers.

“I think I’ll be able to sleep now,” Ryan said. He sent Shane a small smile. “Thanks.”

Shane shrugged his shoulders and stood up. He gave Ryan a soft smile in return, the best he could do to acknowledge Ryan’s gratitude. He wasn’t good with that kind of thing, so Ryan only shook his head and bent over to dig his pajamas out of his bags. Shane deliberately looked away, moving to shut the curtains tight against any lookie loo ghosts.

“Goodnight, Shane,” Ryan called out quietly as he swung the bathroom door shut behind him.

Shane raised his voice slightly so his ‘goodnight’ could be heard through the door. He waited a moment, listening to the sound of the sink being turned on. Satisfied Ryan wouldn’t come back out, Shane dug into his pants pockets, pulling out the small pouch filled with carefully measured herbs. Shane checked that it was tied tightly closed and muttered a quick spell to boost the natural abilities of the herbs. He tucked it inside the pillow case he’d tossed into the corner, his movements hurried but steady. He felt bad leaving it for the maids to discover, but he had no good excuse to return to Ryan’s room in the morning. All they had to do was throw it out, Shane reasoned.

Shane paused at the door. He looked toward the bathroom. “Night, Ry,” he muttered. The door clicked behind him, locking him out.

* * *

“How’d you sleep?” Shane asked casually, slumped in one of the airport’s uncomfortable seats. The tinny sound of Devon’s music floated to him from where she sat curled up on the other side of him, still sleepy, her headphones at risk of falling out. Several feet away, TJ stood in front of the windows that looked out over the tarmac, one hand holding his phone to his ear as he listened to his girlfriend. Nobody was paying attention to them.

“Pretty good,” Ryan replied. He looked well rested, the perpetual bags under his eyes diminished from a good night’s sleep. Ryan stretched with a groan, his arms above his head. His shirt slid up, revealing a strip of skin. It was such a romance book cliche, but Shane was looking, thinking about warm, soft skin against the tips of his fingers. “I don’t think I dreamed at all.”

Shane smiled at him, pleased. “No nightmares, little guy?”

“Nope,” Ryan said, grinning. He tugged his shirt back into place. Shane tried not to feel sad about it and wasn’t entirely successful. “I feel good. I think I sleep better on these trips than I do at home, which makes no sense.”

“Travel and late nights do that,” Shane pointed out. Ryan glanced over at him, his gaze lingering on Shane’s face. A corner of his mouth ticked up in a small smile.

“I’m sure that’s it,” Ryan agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Shane had long ago given Ryan a key to his apartment. Mostly for Obi’s sake - Shane liked to go camping on weekends, and on holidays he flew to Chicago to visit his family. Someone had to have access to Obi, and Ryan - despite his allergies - was kind enough to agree to it. Watching Obi grow accustomed to Ryan’s presence, to the point where Obi would greet Ryan whenever he visited, was one of Shane’s greatest joys.

So when they made plans to hang out on a Saturday and Shane realized he’d have to pop over to the grocery store to stock up a few vital items (like popcorn), he didn’t hesitate to tell Ryan to just let himself in and chill. Ryan had been there alone before.

Shane lived not that far from a small grocery store, so it was a no brainer to walk there rather than braving LA traffic. The doors dinged as he walked in, and he sent the cashier a small wave. It was easy to weave through the aisles and pick up popcorn, some chips, salsa, and soda. Shane didn’t like drinking when he had work the next day - he was getting too old to fight through a hangover at work - which Ryan knew, so he skipped right past the booze. If Ryan wanted a beer, he could find an old one in Shane’s fridge or bring his own.

It was another beautiful LA day, the wind off the ocean keeping the ever present sun from beating down too hard. Shane whistled as he walked, tilting his head up to enjoy the feeling of warmth on his face, on his bare arms. He took the stairs up to his apartment two at a time. Even though the groceries weren’t all that heavy, he was more than ready to set them down.

An unpleasant buzz went down Shane’s back as he jostled his apartment door open. His skin broke out in goosebumps. He paused just inside the doorway, holding his breath. He could hear Netflix playing on the television, but Ryan wasn’t sitting on the couch. The bathroom door near the entrance remained open, the light off. Shane cautiously moved to the kitchen to drop his groceries off. Ryan wasn’t there either, and he couldn’t hear him moving about.

Ryan had texted to say he was on his way before Shane left. He should have gotten here ahead of Shane. He hadn’t turned the television on before he’d left, so Ryan _had_ to have been here. And where was Obi?

“Ryan?” He called out. He was not getting a good vibe, which had never happened in his apartment before. Having his familiar, safe home feel disturbed was throwing him off-kilter, making a nervous pit form in his stomach. Shane deliberately kept his breathing deep and even as he made his way down the hallway to the back of his apartment, where his bedroom and office was located.

His bedroom door was ajar, and the light was off. The light in his office was on, however.

He sent a small pulse of his magic out. _Obi? Safe?_

Shane felt Obi respond, _satisfaction hunger friend safe_. So Shane stepped into the room, keeping his steps light. His breath caught at the sight of the mess in the room. It looked like a tornado had gone through, papers and books strewn about. A plant was knocked over, and Shane was reaching to right it without thinking. It brought him close to Ryan, standing behind the desk, in the epicenter of the mess. Shane froze, both hands on the plant’s pot.

Ryan was holding a very familiar book in his hands. One Shane had shoved to the back of his bookshelf for safe keeping. Ryan’s dark hair normally complimented his skin beautifully, but now the dark locks were only emphasizing how pale he’d become. He was staring at Shane with dilated pupils, his lips slightly parted. His hands were shaking as he gripped Shane’s grimoire.

“Ah, buddy,” Shane sighed. He scratched at the back of his head, uncertain what to do. He wanted to reassure Ryan, crack a joke, calm him down - just as he did on location. But it was clear Ryan was in a state, and Shane didn’t think jokes were a good idea at this point.

“What is this?” Ryan asked. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Does it seem like a joke?” Shane asked, tilting his head. “How did you even find it?”

“Obi was in here when I showed up. He wouldn’t stop meowing, so I came to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.” For a moment, Ryan looked guilty. “I may have stepped on his tail and fell into the bookcase.”

Which promptly knocked all the books onto the desk and floor, Shane figured.

“I was cleaning everything up when I found this,” Ryan hefted the book up, like Shane might have missed it. “What the _fuck_ , dude?”

“You aren’t supposed to be able to see it,” Shane said quietly. “It’s glamoured.”

“ _Glamoured_?” Ryan choked out. He looked on the verge of having a panic attack. Or a heart attack. Really, some kind of attack, and either way it couldn’t be good for his blood pressure. Shane really wanted to wrap an arm around him, tug him closer. Touch always calmed Ryan, and he looked like he could use a hug. He also looked like he’d run screaming from the apartment if Shane came any closer, so Shane swayed where he stood, torn between his two instincts.

Obi butted in with _hungry feed now._

 _No_ , Shane pushed back at him.

_Obi hungry die_

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. _Obi die no_ , he sent back with far less patience than normal. From his perch on the desk, Obi’s tail flicked, disgruntled. Shane knew from experience he wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted, his demands louder and implacable.

“Could we discuss this in the - the living room, maybe?” Shane asked. “Obi’s hungry. I could make you some tea.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Cursed tea?”

“Jesus, Ryan, no. I’ll be drinking from the same kettle.”

“Like I’d know if that makes a difference,” Ryan retorted, watching Shane warily.

“Exactly, you _don’t_ know how it works, so how about - could you just - let me explain?”

 _Food_ , Obi demanded.

“Fine,” Ryan said finally, lips pressed together until they were white. Shane bit back an instinctive, snotty _fine_ and turned to go back down the hall. He didn’t hear footsteps behind him, but he also didn’t turn around to check. If Ryan wanted to slip out the door and run for the hills, he could. They worked together for fuck’s sake - Shane would see him eventually.

Obi raced ahead, beating Shane to the kitchen. He paced in front of his dish, meowing insistently until Shane filled his dish with food. When he finally looked behind him, Ryan hovered in the living room, still clutching Shane’s grimoire to him. Shane sighed at the physical distance between them and started the process of making tea. His hands remained steady even as his emotions and thoughts circled and twisted. He muttered a small spell to make the water heat up faster, uncertain if it was going to make things worse but also unable to the heavy silence that had fallen between them. For whatever reason, his brain was insisting he couldn’t explain until there was tea.

By the time the tea was done and set out on the kitchen table, Ryan had come closer, like a wild animal warily keeping an eye on a bigger predator. He was no longer quite so pale and shaky, Shane was pleased to note. He still looked like he needed some quiet time, however. Like it wouldn’t take much to make him collapse.

“My family,” Shane began, his voice strained, “Has been practicing witchcraft for a few generations now. Somewhere along the way, witchcraft has gotten a reputation synonymous with satanism, I think. It’s not - we don’t _curse_ people, Ryan. We celebrate life and nature, mostly.”

“Uh huh,” Ryan said skeptically. He set the grimoire on the table and at least picked up the tea cup, cradling it between his palms.

“Seriously, have I ever given you the idea, the impression, that I’m someone who delights in hurting or, or harming people?”

“No,” Ryan muttered. Shane took a sip of his own tea. He pulled out a chair and settled in at the table, looking up at Ryan.

“I grew up with this,” Shane repeated “We have a greenhouse at home to grow our own vegetables and herbs. My mom sells her poison ivy cream during the summer months, and during the winter, tea that soothes sore throats. She’s made a business of it, in fact. It’s not like in horror movies. We don’t hurt people - in fact, it’s anathema to us.”

Ryan flipped open the cover of Shane’s grimoire. On the inside flap, written in childish, shaky letters: _Shane Madej, 1992_. Ryan brushed his fingers against the too-large letters, then began flipping through the book.

“I thought this was a joke at first,” Ryan said quietly. Underneath his fingers, a spell for concentration, written in a hand more steady than that of the inside flap. He flipped the page again, seeing a recipe for a paste that heals bruises faster. He flipped deeper into the book, where the writing was settled into that familiar hand that Ryan saw everyday at work. Hot daga song lyrics began to make an appearance. “But even you wouldn’t go this far.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Shane said. When he swallowed, his dry throat clicked. He took another sip of his tea. Ryan flipped a page again, to a spell to keep your hot drinks hot. He lingered there for a moment, the corner of his mouth quirking up just so.

“It explains some things.”

“I imagine so.”

Ryan’s gaze flicked up to meet Shane’s. He stared for a moment, biting down on his bottom lip, examining Shane’s face. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Probably not,” Shane confessed. When Ryan took a deep, startled breath, Shane hurried to continue. “At first, it was because I didn’t know how to tell you. You’re so afraid of anything that hints at, at, at the supernatural. And then you straight up said you didn’t believe in witches. I thought...what does it hurt, to keep this from you? From possibly ruining the best relat- uh, hm, friendship I’ve ever had in my life?”

Ryan made a small noise at that, his gaze softening somewhat.

“I am so freaked out, dude. I don’t - I mean, this is just so crazy, you know? All demon jokes aside, you’re a skeptic, my non-believer pal. Yin to my yang, or some shit. I thought we agreed on witches. I feel like I’m on a tilt-a-whirl, only upside down and going really fast. Nothing makes sense. Who _are_ you?”

“The same person I was yesterday, and the day before,” Shane said vehemently. “You just know about a different aspect of me.”

“This is a little bit bigger than knowing you used to smoke or occasionally date guys,” Ryan argued. “This is BIG.”

  
Shane rubbed his forehead where a headache was forming. “I-I don’t know what you want me to say, Ryan. I’m sorry I hid this from you, I am. I’ve thought about telling you all the time, but it never seemed right. And how do I tell you? Do I cast a spell for you? Talk to Micki or Dori? Do I -”

“Wait, whoa, you can talk to animals?” Ryan’s voice went up in pitch, this time with excitement.

“Kind of?” Shane said, wiggling his hand to indicate so-so. “It’s not words, more like concepts.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Ryan breathed, leaning toward Shane. His eyes were wide and full of curious excitement.

“Ryan,” Shane said pointedly.

“What else can you do?” Ryan asked slowly. He looked at Shane appraisingly. “I want to know _all the things_.”

“That’s...a lot,” Shane replied weakly.

Ryan lifted his arm up into the air, clenching his hand into a fist.

“Know all the things!” He cried. Shane laughed at the meme reference, one hand pressed to his face. The knot that had formed in his stomach back in his home office was slowly dissolving.

“God, you’re going to be insufferable about this,” he said, sliding his hand down so it was only covering his mouth, his helpless, relieved smile.

“I have so much research to do,” Ryan said dreamily, like the nerd that he was.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane said, “How about you just ask me instead? The internet is not to be trusted.”

“Oh, I will be,” Ryan said solemnly. His eyes glittered with excitement as he met Shane’s eyes, his words like a promise. The silence that fell between them this time was easier, almost like the normal ease that existed between them. Ryan continued flipping through the book, brow furrowed as he read. Shane’s fingers twitched with the urge to tug the book away. After the fifth time Shane made an aborted movement toward the book, Ryan looked up at him.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeeeeeh,” Shane said, grimacing. “Grimoires are, ah, pretty private, usually. A record of spells and recipes that are important enough to keep record of.”

“Like a diary?” Ryan smirked.

“Yes, Ryan, like a diary,” Shane groused.

“Am I bothering you?” Ryan tilted his head, his hands slowly sliding off the book.

“It’s just weird,” Shane confessed. “Like you’re looking at my porn collection or something.”

“Hooooly shit,” Ryan said, closing the book abruptly. His cheeks flushed a delicate pink. He seemed to be avoiding Shane’s gaze, too. “Sorry, dude.”

“It’s fine, I trust you,” Shane said, even though just a minute before he’d been fighting the urge to tug the book out of Ryan’s hands. “It’s just weird.”

Ryan traced the cover of the leather bound book before sliding it over to Shane’s side of the table. Shane didn’t take it, however, and let it sit there. Without something to occupy him, Ryan was getting twitchy, jiggling his leg, biting his lips.

“Are we ok?” Shane asked. The question had been burning inside him, singeing his tongue, and it was a relief to get it out. He settled deeper into the chair, trying to look casual, like his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest.

“Yes,” Ryan said, but slowly, like he was thinking it over as he answered. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m just fine with all of this, but I believe that you’re not evil. If you can’t even punch someone, I don’t think you could curse them either.”

“Thanks, Ry,” Shane said wryly.

“I have so many questions,” Ryan said firmly, meeting Shane’s eyes. “I feel like you’ve been lying to me about who you are. Like, are we - we’re friends right? You trust me?”

“Yes!” Shane sat up in his chair, reaching out to rest his hand on Ryan’s forearm. “Fuck, yes, please don’t doubt that. I didn’t hide this because we’re not friends. I trust you, I just didn’t want to scare you off or change things between us.”

Ryan relaxed under his touch. “Will you tell me now?”

“Of course, anything you want to know,” Shane replied earnestly.

Ryan’s pleased smile lit up the room. Pure sunshine.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite Ryan asking if Shane will spill the beans, as it were, he doesn’t actually ask any questions. Shane assumed it’s because Ryan needs time to process the shift in perspective he’s just been given, and he’s cool with that. Whatever Ryan needs. They sit down to follow their original plans for the evening - horror movies and snacks. They sit in their normal spots, make the same stupid jokes as always, and when Ryan says goodbye, he says it with a soft, fond smile. It’s stupidly normal and Shane’s grateful for it after the shake up the day provided.

He’d been so sure he’d lose Ryan over this.

Shane greeted Sunday with a weightlessness he hadn’t felt in a while. With Ryan in the know and still Shane’s friend, he felt like he could fully embrace the parts of himself he usually kept hidden. So he threw open the curtains and windows to let in the sunshine and cool breeze, selected his _nature vibes_ playlist, and began gathering items. His grimoire was first, placed in the very center of the kitchen table. He pulled out the ingredients he’d bought from Neha and the previously harvested plants he’d preserved and tucked away. He pulled out a small, wooden trunk that held the rest of his tools and set it on the floor next to the table.

He filled a saucepan with water and stuck it on the stove. Absent-mindedly humming to the music, Shane started with sunscreen, as he always did. He wasn’t really one to get _tan_ \- turning lobster red until he peeled was more his body’s speed, and to spare himself the indignity and possible melanoma, he made his own. He muttered over the ingredients occasionally, feeling his magic escape out his fingertips, making them tingle. He mixed it all together, put a lid on it, and then stuck the jar into the saucepan.

While the ingredients melted together, he began to gather herbs together. Shane’s steady, practiced movements faltered here, one hand hovering over the lavender. Would Ryan even want a dreamless sleep pouch? Shane hadn’t exactly told him about this, and he might get mad that Shane had been using magic on him. Especially without his knowledge, Shane thought guiltily. He bit his lip, uncertain.

He took a step back from the table, staring at the herbs laid out. After a moment, he approached the stove to shake the jar and make sure everything was melting and mixing evenly before placing it back in the saucepan. When he turned back to the table and his work in progress, Shane shrugged.

He’d make the dreamless sleep herb pouch. He’d tell Ryan what he’d been doing, and if Ryan wanted it, Shane would have one on hand. If he didn’t, well. Shane would have to confess what he’d been doing sometime, and it might as well be now.

Shane was reaching for the knife when Ryan knocked on his door. It wasn’t that Ryan had a particular knock, it’s just that Shane _knew_. He always just knew. Shane shut the stove off and removed the jar from the saucepan. He left it on the counter to cool and went to answer the door. If his hands were a little shaky with nerves, he was certain Ryan wouldn’t notice.

“Hey, man,” Ryan greeted. His hair was curling and product-less, just begging to be touched. He was wearing his lazy outfit - a loose, soft shirt and a pair of pants that _didn’t_ cling to him like a second skin. Despite the worn outfit, Ryan was still handsome enough to make Shane’s breath catch in his throat. Ryan took advantage of his momentary speechlessness to slip by Shane without an invitation and kick his shoes off in the living room. Shane thought about saying something sarcastic - “make yourself at home!” - but decided against it and shut the door with a flourish. He wasn’t surprised to find Ryan snooping in his kitchen, poking at the herbs on the table, eyeing the gently steaming jar.

“What’re you up to here?”

“I don’t know,” Shane said, “Spooky stuff?”

Ryan laughed at the reference, punching Shane lightly on the arm. Shane joined him in the sunshine-filled kitchen. He reached for his unopened grimoire and started flipping through the pages, stopping when he came across the recipe for dreamless sleep. He passed it over to Ryan wordlessly and waited for him to read it. The breeze brushed gently over his skin, like mother nature herself was reaching out to soothe him. Shane closed his eyes exhaled slowly, relaxing into the warmth of the sun. His magic pulsed inside him, ready to be used.

“Sounds useful,” Ryan said finally, handing the book back to Shane. Shane took it and set it where he’d gotten it from. Ryan was looking up at him, head tilted, but it didn’t look like he was putting two and two together like Shane thought he would. Shane leaned his hip against the table and braced himself.

“I make it for you,” he said, watching Ryan’s face closely, “for Unsolved trips.”

Ryan’s eyes slowly widened. He blinked rapidly, clearly trying to process this. He bit his lip.

“You’ve been using your magic on me?” He wrapped his arms around himself defensively as he took a step back, toward the door. Shane forced himself not to follow. He hunched down to make himself look smaller, and couldn’t meet Ryan’s eyes.

“Yes,” he admitted. There was no getting around that.

“You - i-is that all you’ve done?” Ryan asked.

“Yes - well, kind of?” Shane said quietly. “I make the poison ivy cream, and some good luck charms for the shoots.”

“Good luck charms?” Ryan’s voice was high and shaky. “What does that mean, exactly?”

Shane swallowed, his throat tight. Here was the reaction he’d been expecting, dreading. “It does what it says. It’s a good luck charm. If - say, say the floor were to give out from underneath you. You’d - luck is, is, it’s on your side and you manage to catch yourself. Or step out of the way of a collapsing ceiling. At least, it makes you more likely to do those things.”

“So you’re basically protecting us? Can you ward people from harm?” Ryan asked.

Shane squinted. “It’s not protecting so much as giving you an advantage. I mean, there are protection sigils. Or I could spell a necklace to give its wearer a layer of protection. But that’s more powerful magic and it works better with the consent of the bearer, so to speak. I would have to sit you all down and tell you what I was doing, and you’d have to agree.”

“And that’s everything?” Ryan asked suspiciously.

“I clear the air in the more dirty locations,” Shane offered.

“Clear the air,” Ryan repeated blankly.

“Do you know what sort of mold we could be breathing in? We go into old tuberculosis hospitals, Ryan, who knows what’s lingering - I certainly don’t! So I just make the air safe to breathe. It only lasts for a short window, especially since I’m trying to clean a large area. We do it all the time.”

“We?”

“Uh, witches? I mean, LA is beautiful, but occasionally the smog can be a bit much.”

“You know witches here?” Ryan squeaked. Whether it was out of fear or excitement, Shane couldn’t tell. He shrugged.

“In a city this big? Yes, Ryan. There are witches here.”

“Wow,” Ryan breathed. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. Being out of sync with Ryan felt so wrong, like a discordant note in a familiar song. It was making Shane uncomfortable, and he wanted to crack a joke. Or reach out and pat the top of Ryan’s head, which he only did to really annoy the little guy.

“I don’t have to do any of those things anymore,” Shane blurted. “Or I can just do them for myself, or something? No spell lasts forever, so eventually the good luck charms will lose their juice and I can just...not replace them.”

“No, don’t do that,” Ryan said loudly. “Fuck. I don’t want you to feel, you know, ashamed or anything. This is all just so much.”

“I know it is,” Shane said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Ryan made a noise in the back of his throat. He shook his head and took a step closer to Shane. He lifted a hand like he was going to reach out and touch Shane, but after a barely-there hesitation, ran his hand through his hair.

“I’m just freaking out,” He admitted, “‘cause I don’t know - I mean. I don’t want to accuse you of anything, I’m just scared about how far you could go. If you can put me to sleep -”

“You’re breathing in herbs, Ryan, it’s not like I’m knocking you out -”

“ - what else can you do? Could you make me do something I don’t want to do?”

“Hey,” Shane said loudly, “I would _never_ -”

“Or make me feel something I wouldn’t feel otherwise?”

Silence fell between them.

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that,” Shane said quietly. It was his turn to wrap his arms around himself, though it looked more like a protective instinct than a defensive one. “But I have never and w-would never influence your feelings.”

His tone made Ryan wince. Shane saw the regret in his eyes but refused to acknowledge it. If Ryan really thought he was capable of that, then what were they friends for? Ryan had said he didn’t believe Shane would hurt anyone, but Ryan also hadn’t known shit about magic at the time. Not that he knew anything _now_.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, looking truly miserable. “I know you wouldn’t do that, I don’t know why I thought you would.”

Shane rubbed his chest like his heart was hurting him. He looked away from Ryan, down at the floor between them. After a long, fraught pause, Ryan crept closer, his socked feet edging into Shane’s view.

“I-I just thought. You always calm me down on locations, so I wondered if maybe that was something you did with your magic, and then my brain was like, _what else can he do_? And you know my brain, once it goes down a path it doesn’t stop. In the worst way possible.”

“You can’t mentally alter someone with magic, Ryan. It doesn’t work like that. I can’t make you do or feel anything you wouldn’t normally. The dreamless sleep bag just helps you relax, and you sleep deeply enough you don’t dream.”

“And calming me down?”

Shane shook his head. “I don’t do anything.”

Ryan nodded slowly, thinking something over. “It’s all you,” he breathed. “Huh.”

After a moment, Ryan edged closer still. Almost uncomfortably close. This was hugging distance, a small stretch of space that verged on breaching the kissing range. It was making Shane’s heart pound and his palms sweat. He didn’t want to give in to Ryan so easily, throw down forgiveness like it was so easily won, but Ryan in his space was making him nervous. Shane wanted to pull him closer and step away, keep the status quo, all at the same time.

“I’m sorry, big guy,” Ryan said sincerely. His big brown eyes were soft with regret, the corners of his mouth tilted down. Shane took a deep breath, smelling Ryan’s deodorant. Shane never could stay mad at Ryan for long.

“It’s - it’s - I forgive you,” Shane mumbled. He ruffled his own hair and turned to face the kitchen table. He breathed a little easier without Ryan so close to his face and wondered what the hell that entire thing was about. Shane has seen Ryan with his bros and none of them had any concept of personal space, but it had never been like that with them.

“Thank you,” Ryan murmured and tugged on Shane’s sleeve with his thumb and pointer finger. Shane flicked a glance at him at the touch and allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Ryan relaxed fully at the sight and sent him a tentative smile back.

Shane’s brain frantically cast about for a subject to fill the weirdly charged silence with. Looking down at his hands, which were playing with some lavender, he opened his mouth. “I guess I won’t need to make this anymore.”

“Will it go to waste?” Ryan asked, watching as Shane gathered the ingredients together.

“Nah, I’ll find a use for it,” Shane said confidently. “Or I can make the thing and send it to my mom for sale in the shop.”

“Or maybe...we can make it together?” Ryan offered, looking up at Shane.

“Together?” Shane echoed. He froze with one hand outstretched, ready to drop the ingredients into the box used to store them.

“Yeah, show me how it’s done,” Ryan said eagerly. “I want to see you work your magic.”

“This kind of thing isn’t visually interesting,” Shane objected. “It’s mostly me muttering spells over the ingredients and combining them in precise amounts.”

“I haven’t actually seen you do any magic,” Ryan pointed out. “I want to see.”

“I’m surprised you believed so quickly in my abilities based on a book you found in my office.”

Ryan shrugged. “I’m a believer. That’s my thing.”

“Ugh,” Shane replied, wrinkling his nose.

“C’moooon,” Ryan whined. He reached out and grabbed Shane’s sleeve, this time with a stronger grip. “Please!”

“You are a child.”

“And you’re a creaky, old man,” Ryan countered. “Who is going to show me how to make this thing, and then I’m gonna go home and use it.”

Shane’s heart slammed into his chest. “What?”

“I trust you,” Ryan said, meeting Shane’s eyes. “I could use a good night’s sleep.”

“You do run on coffee and taco bell,” Shane agreed. Ryan’s unwavering stare was difficult to look away from.

“Done deal!” Ryan said triumphantly, “No take backs.”

“I didn’t _really_ agree, I just said -”

“Nope, no, we have all the ingredients out, let's do this.” Ryan reached out and took the ingredients from Shane’s hand, setting it back down on the table. He grinned up at Shane, wide and toothy. His lips looked incredibly pink and inviting. Shane’s fingers tingled.

“You can’t just steamroll right over me,” Shane pointed out. He began to separate the ingredients, the lavender from the chamomile, and so on.

“I think I just did, big guy.”

“You’ll pay for this,” Shane threatened, shaking a flower at Ryan. He only smiled, that certain fond expression Shane thought was just for him. Fans called it heart eyes, and sometimes, deep inside him where his magic thrived, Shane thought it was accurate.

* * *

_Shane wait, if magic is real are ghosts too? (11:47pm)_

_Shane? (11:51pm)_

_SHANE????? (12:02am)_

* * *

“Dude, I had the best night of sleep _ever_ ,” Ryan exclaimed when he came into work the next day. He dropped his bag on the floor and threw himself into his chair, spinning in it while grinning like an idiot.

“That’s great,” Shane said, smiling brightly at him. Ryan worked so hard on his various projects, risking burnout every week to keep up with the sheer number of deadlines he had. Shane took pride in poking Ryan into leaving work early or relaxing at home. Even then, Ryan never looked as well rested as he did now, fidgeting in his chair and smiling at nothing in particular. It was a good look for him.

“So, like, is that something I could take every night?”

Shane blinked in surprise. “Well, uh, the - the price of buying the ingredients might stack up. None of it’s particularly expensive, but you’d have to buy supplies for every night. And I’d have to -” Shane did jazz hands to indicate magic, making Ryan wheeze.

“No dangerous side effects though?” Ryan asked, adjusting his glasses on his face. He was dressed comfortably in worn jeans and a soft looking shirt, a snapback backwards on his head. In the sunlight coming through the window behind him, he almost looked like he was glowing.

“Nah, it’s all natural herbs and shit,” Shane said. “The hardest part will be spelling it.”

Ryan hummed, looking thoughtful. “Is it really exhausting to do? If you do it every night, will it wear you down?”

Shane took a moment to really give it some thought. He said slowly, “I don’t think so...I do little things throughout the day, like keeping my coffee warm. Or making sure Larry stays healthy. But I don’t actually do anything big, so it’s not like I’m really tapping into my reserves or anything.”

Ryan’s eyes went wide. He leaned closer. “You keep Larry alive with _magic_?”

Shane twisted his chair to look at the little plant on the corner of his desk. A _Rex Bergonia_ that Shane doted on, its colorful leaves were always a joy to look at. When Shane was little, he’d been fascinated by the plant and the variety of colors the leaves took. To him, they looked like magic plants from a fantasy story. When choosing something to keep at his desk, it seemed like a no-brainer. Larry seemed like too ridiculous a name for such a pretty thing, but Shane delighted in the ridiculous.

“They’re usually pretty demanding about how much water and light you give them,” Shane said, “I do my best to give Larry what he needs, but a little boost isn’t a bad thing. And look at him! He’s thriving!”

Shane leaned forward to coo at his plant, stroking one of the leaves with a finger. He heard Ryan laugh at him, but didn’t look away. Larry seemed to tremble under his touch, and before their very eyes, a pink flower bloomed between the leaves, growing and unfurling. Ryan sucked in a loud, harsh breath.

“That’s my guy,” Shane said softly, smiling down at the plant. Another flower bloomed in fast forward.

“Shane,” Ryan whispered. He twisted around to look, meeting Ryan’s gaze, taking in his wide eyes, mouth forming a small ‘o’. As Ryan continued to sit in his chair, face stunned, arms slack at his side, Shane realized it was probably the first real piece of magic Ryan had seen. Making a sleeping aid wasn’t a quick, flashy piece of magic. But this was undeniable. This is the sort of stuff people thought about when they considered magic.

“Ta da,” Shane said, doing jazz hands again. Ryan’s mouth snapped shut and he breathed out a laugh, still staring at the little plant on Shane’s desk. Their coworkers were starting to trickle in now, at various stages of consciousness, so Shane turned until he was facing his computer and shook the mouse to wake it up. He snuck a glance at Ryan, who was staring at Shane now. His smile was soft, his eyes bright with secrets, and Shane could feel his face turning pink at the tenderness.

“Stop it,” he muttered and Ryan laughed quietly.

* * *

“You said your mom runs a business selling stuff,” Ryan asked that Wednesday, on their lunch. He’d caught Shane mid-chew, who had to settle for nodding. Ryan wasn’t deterred by Shane’s preoccupation with his lunch and continued. “Does she sell stuff for allergies or colds?”

Shane swallowed his food and took a sip from his drink. “Yeah, she sells stuff for sore throats and runny noses. All that shit. She’s probably busy stocking up for winter, actually.”

“You never seem to get sick,” Ryan said instead, watching Shane closely.

“That is _not_ true,” Shane argued. “You’ve seen me sick. You’ve dropped supplies outside my door for me.”

“Would you get sick back in Illinois?” Ryan persisted. Shane furrowed his brow, completely lost to where Ryan was taking this.

“Uh, yes? But I just take some stuff for a sore throat, or breathe in steam from -”

“Dude, can your mom cure a cold?” Ryan interrupted, looking impatient. He was sitting extra close to Shane and speaking in a low voice, even though nobody was sitting at a picnic table near them. Ryan was trying to be more cloak and dagger about this than Shane was, and it was cute.

“If you can’t cure it with regular tea, there’s not much we can do.” Shane gave a little shrug. “You can’t magic away a virus, Ryan.”

Ryan looked seriously put out. He _pouted_ , his lower lip jutting out just slightly. “Why not?”

“It doesn’t work like that. We can treat symptoms, but some things are beyond us no matter what.”

“Well that’s lame,” Ryan said, turning back to his food.

“Tell me about it,” Shane said. “But don’t really. I don’t want to spend the rest of my lunch hour listening to you whine about how I should be able to magic any future colds away.”

“It’d be so useful,” Ryan said mournfully, taking a big bite out of his burger.

“So would you getting your edits done so we can finalize the video and post,” Shane said. “But you don’t see me ragging on you about it.”

“You just did. You rag on me all the time, in fact.”

“I learned that by watching you!” Shane said dramatically, slamming his cup down onto the picnic table.

“Who taught you how to do this?” Ryan cried, grabbing Shane’s shoulder.

“[You, all right! I learned it by watching you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifW9LIGabQM)!” Shane said again, louder this time. They cracked up, hunching over the table and laughing. TJ rolled his eyes as he walked by, not even slowing to ask. Ryan left his hand on Shane’s shoulder until they’d calmed down. When he pulled away, it slid down Shane’s arm, like a caress. Shane felt his magic spark inside him and felt uncomfortably warm.

* * *

When Shane gets home that evening, Ryan on his heels, they’re greeted at the door by a meowing Obi. Shane tosses his keys into the little bowl by the door and bends over to run a hand down Obi’s body. When Obi moves out from under his hands and heads toward the kitchen, still meowing insistently, Shane has to laugh.

“Baby boy is hungry!” He said in a sing-song manner. “Where is my thanks, I ask you? Where is my love, Obi-man?”

Shane opens the cupboard to pull out the bag of cat food. He’s careful not to trip over Obi, who has unerring instincts about the worst place to walk, and refills his bowl. As Obi moves to eat, Shane snatches up his water bowl, dumps out the remains, and wipes the bowl out before refilling it. Satisfied, he looks up to find Ryan leaning against his kitchen table, watching him.

“No wonder you weren’t afraid of those fucking coyotes back in West Virginia,” Ryan said. He pointed accusingly at Shane. “I can’t believe I forgot you said you can talk to animals!”

“I did not say that,” Shane objected, “Or, like, I didn’t - it’s not words, Ryan.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes at Shane. “If you’re fucking bullshitting me, I swear to god…”

“No, no,” Shane said, waving a hand like he was trying to swat at a fly. “I promise. It’s not like, ‘Hello, my name is Shane.’ It’s more like, ‘friend, safe’ to let ‘em know I’m not going to hurt them. Or when Obi wants something and gets impatient, or I’m too tired to try and figure it out, he can be like ‘hungry’ or ‘catnip now’.”

“Obi knows the word ‘catnip’?” Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“You’re missing the point on purpose and I hate it,” Shane sighed. Ryan laughed without an iota of regret. Shane threw the dish towel at him, but his aim was abysmal and it landed on the floor next to Ryan’s feet instead.

“Kobe!” Shane said, just to be an ass. Ryan’s laugh turned into a grimace, as it always did when Shane said sports things. It turned into a scowl for the affront to his precious Kobe’s name. Shane smiled smugly and turned to the fridge, mind turning to the problem of dinner. It was a sad state of life, Shane thought, that he had to decide what to eat _every night_.

Ah, the halcyon days of childhood, when he had no job but to sit at the dinner table and eat what was in front of him.

“Have you talked to Micki and Dori?” Ryan blurted out. Shane supposes he should have expected that question, given the devotion Ryan showed to his pets.

“Eh,” Shane shrugged. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it a little, as he stared into the contents of his fridge.

“What’s that mean?” Ryan demanded, bristling at the imagined slight to his babies.

“Nothing, jesus,” Shane laughed, putting his hands up. “Dogs are pretty easy to figure out. It’s not really necessary to check in with them. It’s mostly PLAY FOOD BELLY RUB.”

“So you’ve never even bothered?” Ryan seemed saddened by this, and it made Shane feel a little guilty. He sidled over and gave Ryan’s bicep a soft, awkward punch. Just bro things, he thought, and didn’t think about knocking Ryan’s hat off to touch his hair.

“I wouldn’t say _never_ ,” Shane cleared his throat. Ryan turned hopeful eyes his way. It was a knock out - Shane folded immediately despite the teasing sure to come. “When I first met them I made sure to introduce myself as a friend.”

“ _Introduce yourself_ -” Ryan wheezed.

“I wanted them to like me! They’re important to you!”

“That is so fucking lame, they like everybody,” Ryan said through his laugh. They did - they were energetic and sweet, much like their owner. Shane had been charmed within minutes, despite being a cat person. They didn’t seem to care that Shane wasn’t a very good playmate, and were always happy to see him.

“Whatever,” Shane said, reopening his fridge and ducking down to hide his face. So Shane wanted Ryan’s dogs to like him! And his family too, he had to admit. Nothing weird about that - he’d always wanted his friends' parents to like him in Illinois too, though perhaps not quite as fervently as he’d wanted Ryan’s.

As he moved around the kitchen preparing to fry the meat, Ryan continued to giggle. Shane sighed with exasperation, louder and louder the longer it went on, and made sure Ryan didn’t see him smile.

“If you’re going to laugh at me you can just forget about me making dinner for you,” Shane threatened, brandishing his spatula. Ryan immediately stopped giggling, doing his best to look blank faced.

“Serves you right,” Shane admonished, “Laugh at the cook and you can have another night of fast food.”

“Not _another_ night,” Ryan moaned. “Have pity.”

“Many pity,” Shane deadpanned, “Such regret.”

“I can’t believe you just doge meme’d me in the year of our lord 2019,” Ryan said, grinning.

“I am a man of many memes. I live for those dank memes.”

“Dank memes, Jesus Christ.” Ryan shook his head, unsuccessfully trying to tamp down on his smile. A comfortable silence fell between them then as Shane shut off the stove and added the sauce.

“Get the bread,” Shane said, and Ryan hurried to do so, heading for the cupboard without hesitation. He set the bread on the table and moved to grab them some plates and silverware, setting those on the table as well.

“Sloppy joes?” Ryan asked, peering around Shane’s arm. “Sweet.”

  
Shane shrugged. “It’s easy and better than takeout.”

“Hey, no complaints here, big guy,” Ryan hurried to say. “I haven’t had it in ages. I always seem to forget that easy meals exist. Whenever I think about cooking I think about, like, frying meat and making potatoes. It’s a whole process.”

“You’re going to die at a young age if you keep eating like you do,” Shane said, taking a seat at the table.

“Okay, old man,” Ryan said. He made a happy noise at the first bite and Shane felt a warm glow at Ryan eating something he made, even if it was just sloppy joes.

When they were finished, they both cleaned up, dumping the dirty dishes into the sink and scooping the leftovers into a small container for Ryan to take back home.

They settled in to watch a couple episodes of The Umbrella Academy, each on their own end of the couch. There was an oddness to the air, like the earth was holding its breath, and it put Shane on edge. He fidgeted more than he normally did and struggled to focus on the show. It just...felt like he should scoot closer to Ryan. Shane always wanted to be closer to Ryan, but this was the first time it felt like such a thing would be welcomed. He shifted position, moving his legs from where they’d been outstretched on the table in front of him to up on the couch, tucked sideways so Shane was leaning against the arm of the couch. Ryan sent him a sidelong glance but didn’t say anything.

Ryan learning about Shane’s magic was just fucking with him, Shane decided. As if Ryan being cool with his magic meant he’d be cool with Shane’s feelings too, like it wouldn’t make things complicated and likely to explode in his face. Ryan wasn’t a homophobe, but he was sensitive and caring. He’d feel _awful_ if he knew Shane liked him and he didn’t feel the same way. _Probably guilty, too_ , Shane thought ruefully. _What a sexy idiot._

When the episode ended, Ryan yawned and stretched. Shane hit the remote to send the Roku back to the homepage and stood up, deliberately keeping his face turned away from Ryan and his exposed tummy. _Not today, feelings_! Shane thought. _You’ve run amok enough._

“Thanks for dinner,” Ryan said at the door, offering Shane one last, bright smile. He tossed his keys from hand to hand absently, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“No problem. What kind of ghoulfriend would I be if I didn’t keep you fed?” Shane joked. Ryan tilted his head.

“Still a damn good one,” Ryan declared quietly. He was still smiling. He really needed to stop that. Shane smiled back, helplessly, pleased by the compliment. Ryan turned to go. As he stepped out the door, he turned to face Shane. His smile turned mischievous.

“If you can talk to animals -”

“Ryan, no -” Shane said wearily.

“- does that make you a disney princess?”

Shane froze with his mouth open at this abrupt turn. Ryan’s smile went grinch-like, impossibly wide and evil. He looked like he was going to start crowing about getting one over Shane. Shane’s brain kicked into gear, and he smiled back, just as wide, and said,

“Only if that makes you the animal sidekick.”

Shane shut the door in outraged Ryan’s face, his cackle of delight lingering in the air.


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan had been staring at his work computer with a look of squinty-eyed concentration for the better part of five minutes now. This isn’t so unusual - Ryan could often be found absorbed in his computer screen, muttering under his breath. What _was_ unusual was how he wasn’t actually doing anything. He hadn’t clicked or typed anything the entire time, and only moved the mouse when his computer fell into sleep mode.

Unable to resist, Shane grabbed a piece of paper and wadded it up into a ball. Taking careful aim, Shane gave it a small toss and let out a loud, “HA!” when it bounced off Ryan’s face, hit his computer, and tumbled to a stop in his lap. Ryan turned to send him a distinctly unimpressed look. He left the paper in his lap, safely out of Shane’s reach.

“I’ve missed my calling as a professional b-ball player,” Shane said, shaking his head sadly.

Ryan snorted. “The only shots you ever make are the ones where you’re within two feet of the target. Not exactly MVP material.”

Shane shrugged, unbothered. “All I have to do is position myself underneath the, uh, hoop. Thing. And then just give it a little toss.”

“You’d still have to catch the ball when someone passes it to you,” Ryan pointed out.

“Step one: work on catching basketballs. Step two: question marks. Step three: profit.”

Ryan let out a startlingly loud hoot of laughter. Ducking his head, he covered his mouth with one hand, shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping quiet. When he was done, he shook his mouse to wake his computer. He sent Shane a sidelong glance, still smiling.

“Might want to settle on a different feather in your cap. Despite your sasquatch nature, I think that one’s out of reach.”

“See if I thank you in my speech when I win the...award thing for best basketball team.”

“Do you not know what basketball players win if - okay, never mind, of course you don’t know.”

“It won’t become important until I join the league,” Shane said airily.

“Please stop talking,” Ryan said, looking beleaguered. “Don’t taint the sanctity of basketball with your jokes.”

“My jokes are grade A top choice,” Shane argued. “Fans tune in for them every week.”

“Is it your jokes or is it the quality content we work so hard to provide? Hmm, I think it might be the content.” Ryan rubbed his chin, like he was thinking it over.

“Nope, all jokes. Jokes and your biceps, I think.”

Ryan blinked, surprised, and then sent Shane a pleased grin. “Aw, thanks man.”

Shane’s face lit up as an idea occurred to him. “Your biceps. You should do an entire post-mortem shirtless.”

“What? No!”

“C’mon, when have you ever been shy about taking your shirt off for a video?”

“I’m drawing the line right here; it’s not going to happen. I run a serious show. Uh, kinda serious.”

“Think of the fans, Ryan! Give them what they want!” Shane cried, throwing his arms wide.

“Tell you what, big guy,” Ryan said, turning his chair sideways to lightly kick at Shane’s shin. “I’ll do an episode shirtless if you do.”

“But nobody wants to see _me_ shirtless,” Shane objected. “I’m the funny one. You’re the hot one, baby.”

Ryan frowned at him. “Hey, man. You know that’s not true.”

Shane felt his cheeks turn a little pink. Was Ryan implying he thought Shane was hot, too? This was not going where he’d meant it to. He turned away to grab his phone. “Uh, it most certainly is. But it doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m going to give the fans what they want, and what they want is you shirtless, playing a guitar.”

“What a fucking minute, when did me playing a guitar come into this?” Ryan leaned close, peering at the screen. “Wait, are you tweeting this? Stop, asshole -”

Ryan swiped at Shane’s phone, but Shane turned so his back was facing Ryan. He stood up, his office chair careening across the aisle into the empty chair just behind him. Shane lifted his phone up high, fingers tapping away at the keys, well out of Ryan’s reach.

“Don’t you dare give them any ideas! Boogara Guitara was bad enough!” Ryan reached up and grabbed at Shane’s collar, trying to tug him down so he’d be in reach. When that didn’t work, Ryan hooked an arm over his shoulder, near his neck, trying to pull him closer. Shane was now hunched uncomfortably sideways, trying to type and avoid Ryan’s grasping reach.

“Stop trying to strangle me!” Shane whined, twisting so he was hunched forward rather than sideways. The abrupt movement almost pulled Ryan off his feet. If he hadn’t slid sideways, he’d be dangling from Shane’s back like a child trying to get a piggy back ride.

“Stop tweeting!” Ryan demanded, smacking at Shane’s hands.

“Do we need to pull you two apart?” Steven asked, peering over his computer from the two aisles over.

The world came rushing back in at the sound of his voice, the sound of the office filtering in past their own little bubble. Andrew and Steven were staring, eyebrows raised. Sara was giggling with Quinta over by the stairs, and Curly - was he taking video of them? They straightened up and took a step away from each other.

“No,” they said in unison. Shane swiped his twitter app closed and locked his phone, the tweet unsent. Ryan retook his seat, trying to keep his head high, like he had any dignity left after that display. His cheeks were flushed, a look that suited him. Shane’s own cheeks and ears burned with heat. He retook his seat, studiously ignoring Ryan, and tried to pretend he wasn’t at all thinking about how Ryan had felt with his arms around him, pressed close.

Shane shook the thoughts from his head and did his best to get lost in his overflowing inbox.

* * *

“So what were you thinking about so hard?” Shane asked as they headed for the parking lot together. They always made a point of walking out of work together, even when they didn’t have plans, a habit formed back during the Test Friends and carried over to Unsolved.

“When?” Ryan asked, his backpack bouncing against his shoulder as they walked.

“Before the whole wrestling match in the middle of our office floor. You were staring at your computer.”

“Ah,” Ryan said. He peered up at Shane, dark eyes thoughtful. Shane let him gather his thoughts, pick his words. Ryan was always careful with what he said when it was important. “You said your book was glamoured.”

Shane nodded slowly. “Sure did, bud.”

“You seemed surprised that I could even see it. Why do you think I could? Can I - am I magic, too?”

“Everybody’s a little bit magic. No, seriously,” Shane added when Ryan sent him an incredulous look. “Maybe you always change the channel just as the commercials end, or know who’s calling without looking. It doesn’t have to be _big_ to be magic.”

“So I _am_ magic,” Ryan said flatly. “And so is everyone else.”

“Yeah. But the reason you could see my grimoire is more mundane than that.”

“We’re coming back to this,” Ryan said, pointing at Shane. “Tell me why I could see your grimoire.”

“My family’s grimoires are always heavily glamoured for protection. There’s a lot of misinformation about witches out there and you never know how people will react.” Shane turned to look Ryan in the eye, slowing his pace. “The glamour didn’t work on you because I trust you.”

Ryan blinked. He opened and closed his mouth. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Shane confirmed. “Something that small...and that big.”

Ryan’s mouth slowly stretched into a pleased smile. His steps became just a bit bouncier. “You trust me.”

“Apparently,” Shane said, fighting a smile. Ryan was doing that thing again, where he was the embodiment of sunshine. Shane liked that he could make Ryan so happy he shone.

Ryan twisted so he was walking backwards, still beaming. “You like me.”

Shane’s heart slammed against his ribs and his fingers tingled as his magic twisted anxiously. _Ryan didn’t know, didn’t even suspect. He wouldn’t comment on it at a time like this. You’re not ruining anything._ Despite the inner turmoil, Shane’s voice was calm when he replied, “I do.”

Ryan let out a happy little laugh and turned so he was facing the right way again. They were almost to Ryan’s car now. Shane pulled out his phone and pulled up the Uber app, like he always did. He usually hitched a ride with his ghoul friend, but sometimes Ryan had plans with his roommates or other friends, and Shane didn’t want to assume.

“Want a ride?” Ryan asked casually, unlocking his car with a click from his key fob. He tossed his bag into the back seat and opened the driver’s door. He climbed in without waiting for Shane’s answer and was already turning the car on by the time Shane made it to the passenger side door. Shane turned the radio on for background noise, though he kept the volume down low.

They forced their way into traffic, just one of many cars returning home after work. Sometimes Shane took comfort in the anonymity and disconnect of L.A. It reminded him that his problems were small in the grand scheme of things, that people were too caught up in their own lives to pay close attention to him. He could just be, without worry.

“Could I learn to do what you do?” Ryan asked as the car slowed to a stop, several cars back from the red light.

“Yes,” Shane said. “Some of it would even come easy to you.”

Shane fell silent, trying to think of how to put it. It was hard to put into words what you knew deep in your bones, what you’d known your whole life. Shane had never had to explain to someone before, and it was difficult. Words were limiting, unable to convey everything. So Shane fumbled through it, trying his best, hoping Ryan would do what he always did and meet Shane halfway.

“Everyone has a little magic to them. Like embers, barely glowing. But I’ve seen people who have married into my family nurture it until it’s a spark or a flame. People can learn, but they have to be open to it, and I think it helps to be surrounded by it too, you know? Like saturation or something.”

“So it’s possible,” Ryan said.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it,” Shane said. “Not often though.”

“Because of stereotypes?” Ryan asked, tapping one hand on the steering wheel.

“Some. But when I say being open to it, I mean to, to, to magic as a force. It’s the bridge that connects you to nature and each other. You have to accept it, and reach across the gap.” Shane was so good about reaching when it came to nature and his family. Perhaps that’s why he struggled to visibly emote - he was so used to just shoving his magic at people so they’d _know_ , without him having to explain or show. He’d gotten lazy, too used to relying on his magic.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Ryan confessed. He darted a look at Shane, who was already looking back.

“It’s hard to describe. It’s something you have to experience, I think.”

“Can you help me experience it?”

Shane bit his lip, uncertain. He wanted to - his magic was practically dancing with excitement at the thought, a reflection of him. But Shane loved Ryan with a quiet fierceness, a steady beat, and encouraging Ryan’s so-called ember of magic meant opening himself up and putting himself on display. Could he do that?

A glance at Ryan’s hopeful face made Shane sigh. He would, as always, give Ryan what he wanted.

“I can do that. Give me some time to figure out what we should do.”

“Hell yeah!” Ryan shouted, slamming his fist against the steering wheel in excitement. Shane laughed at him, at his little grunt of pain as his excitement ebbed and his hand began to hurt. He shook his head and stared out the window, listening to the low sound of the radio. He watched the stores blur by, the people going about their lives, oblivious to the magic that lived inside them.

* * *

It’s difficult to pick something easy enough for a beginner to do, but visually fun in a way that’ll keep Ryan’s interest. Shane _thinks_ he’s settled on something by Saturday evening, but his view on what’s easy is terribly skewed by his upbringing. He’s also a little concerned about teaching this particular skill to Ryan, who is an intelligent, capable man that Shane admires greatly - but who is also a disaster in the kitchen.

That’s a problem for future Shane, he decides, and shoots Ryan a text to come over the next day.

Shane’s stupidly surprised when Ryan shows up earlier than expected. Of course Ryan would be eager - he’s going to learn _magic_ , which he has only recently learned is real. Shane’s surprised he didn’t wake up to find Ryan sitting in his bedroom, watching him sleep. He says this to Ryan, who says with scary solemness, “I seriously considered it.”

Shane doesn’t know what to do with that, so he leads him into the kitchen. On the counter sits a small fire extinguisher. On the table are three candles of various sizes, unlit. Ryan seems kind of unimpressed as he surveys the scene. He raises an eyebrow at Shane, waiting for him to explain.

“Well, uh. You’ll notice there are no matches,” Shane began.

“I sure did, Shane,” Ryan said placidly.

Shane rolled his eyes at himself for stating the obvious. “Right. You won’t need them, because you’re going to learn to light these with magic.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”

“Mmhmm. It was the one thing we were allowed to do during celebrations. Though I wonder now at the wisdom of teaching children how to start fires.”

“Dude,” Ryan breathed, eyes practically sparkling.

“Please don’t set your apartment on fire. You can’t exactly start a raging inferno using this method, though if anyone could find a way, it’d probably be you.”

“I’ve only set my kitchen on fire _three times_ ,” Ryan said, insulted. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

“Maybe I should pick something else,” Shane said, doubting himself. He was starting to imagine that scene from Community where Troy leaves to get pizza and returns to find things on fire and Pierce bleeding out on the floor. A sequence of random events that lead to Ryan setting his apartment on fire - perhaps starting with the dish towel. Ryan would be inconsolable if he lost all those fancy shoes and sports jerseys.

“What? No, c’mon man. It’s fine. You said I can’t really set anything on fire with this.”

“I said you can’t start an inferno. Little fires are still fires.”

“I promise to use this only with supervision,” Ryan said, threading his fingers together into one fist and bringing it up to his face in the classic pleading gesture. Shane still hesitated, even as the creeping sense he was overreacting set in. Candles were meant to be burned, and were set afire easily because of it. It was much more difficult to set a dish towel or a curtain on fire.

“You’re taking the extinguisher home,” Shane said finally.

“Deal!” Ryan shouted. He did a little dance where he stood. It reminded Shane of the dancing baby from the 90’s, which he could have lived forever without remembering. Shane couldn’t suppress the urge to start humming the song, and segued into saying, “Ooga chaka ooga chaka,” as Ryan danced, whose movements got wilder. They collapsed into wheezing before Shane could really get going on the song. When they’d caught their breaths, Shane gestured for Ryan to get closer.

“The thing about magic is it’s all about connection. Between each other, the objects we’re affecting. But most importantly, between ourselves and our magic.”

“How do I…?”

“I’ll help you,” Shane said. He hesitated. “I, uh. So. Witches can do this thing where their magic connect, um, connects them. I’ll be inside you -” _bad word choice_ \- “Or we’ll. Uh. Inside each other? It’s intimate, is what I’m saying. But I won’t be able to read your mind or anything.”

Ryan relaxed at that, looking relieved.

“It’s sort of like a Vulcan mind meld, actually. But without the thoughts or memory sharing.” Shane took a moment to hold Ryan’s gaze, letting him see how serious he was. “It really is intimate, Ryan. You’ll _know_ me.”

“I already know you pretty well,” Ryan said softly. He drifted closer. Shane could almost feel his body heat at this distance.

“This is different,” Shane insisted. “It’s not bad. I miss it, actually. I used to do it a lot with my family and friends back home.”

Ryan let out a quiet breath. “I can handle whatever you throw at me, big guy.”

“It’ll be pretty superficial. Partly because going too fast could freak you out, but also because the entire goal here is to get you in touch with your natural magic.”

Ryan repeated, “I can handle it.”

He reached out to wrap a long fingered hand around Ryan’s wrist. While it wasn’t strictly necessary, Shane thought a grounding touch could only help. Shane’s fingers tingled as he called on his magic, and he sent a tendril of it out. There were spells and potions you could cast to see auras and magic, but Shane could easily imagine the earthy green of his magic reaching out for Ryan, surrounding him, sinking into his skin.

Ryan sucked in a startled breath, but Shane hardly noticed. It was the first time he’d connected to someone since his failed coven meetup. It was intense. His heart was pounding and his magic writhed with joy. Ryan was like - like the sunshine he embodied. The warmth of his being sunk into Shane like sliding into a warm bath after a chilly day. He was a livewire of energy, _go go go_. He was dependable and earnest, heartfelt and emotional. To Shane, Ryan felt like joy. He cared so deeply, about everything all the time. If Shane went too far, he could easily lose himself to the depth and fierceness of Ryan’s emotions. He was nervous and excited and happy, so happy -

His magic wasn’t difficult to find. It ran underneath this skin, sparking and vibrant. Shane coaxed it higher, it’s warmth making his skin prickle. He coaxed it up and out, until it was at Ryan’s fingertips. Shane did his best to funnel it so Ryan didn’t have access to too much. Just enough to spark from his fingertips.

“Ry,” Shane whispered, opening his eyes. “Look at the candles.”

Ryan slowly opened his eyes, looking dazed. He stared at Shane with wonder, awe putting stars in his eyes. He blinked once, twice, his cheeks taking on a faint pink color, before he slid his gaze over to the candles. Shane’s magic twined with Ryan’s, helping it along, keeping it in check. Shane’s whole body was tingling now, a ticklish sensation that flowed from where his hand was wrapped around Ryan’s.

“The candle wants to be lit. Look at the wick. Picture it lighting up - gently, now. Just a flicker.”

Ryan’s magic surged and all three candles caught. The flames were a bit too high - Ryan used too much, overzealous as always, but at least the flame hadn’t leapt to the ceiling. Shane felt hyper aware of Ryan, his even breaths and warm skin, the bright flash of his teeth. He wanted to pull Ryan close, until he was just a warm press against Shane. Instead, he gave Ryan’s magic a gentle tug.

“Well done,” Shane murmured. “You feel that connection between you and the candle? Feel that flow? Rein it in, man. Take it back. Not too quickly, or you’ll snuff it out.”

Ryan did, haltingly. His magic stuttered, like it didn’t want to let go of the candle. Slowly, his magic disengaged from the candle and settled back under his skin where it hummed happily. Shane stayed connected to the candle for just a moment longer, hyper aware of the small heat it gave off and the softening of the wax. The smell of it filled Shane’s nose like it was burning dangerously close to his face, before he too let it go. It was just a candle again, giving off a barely perceptible smell.

“Shane,” Ryan whispered. He was looking at Shane again, unblinking. Like he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “You - you’re so….wow.”

Shane breathed a small laugh. “Yeah. Overwhelming, isn’t it?”

“You,” Ryan said again. He fell silent, unable to find the words. This limitation, Shane knew all too well. He reached over and curled a hand over the back of Ryan’s neck. He let it rest there for a moment, squeezing gently. Ryan smelled good, something spicy that made Shane want to drag his nose up the line of Ryan’s throat. He then slid his hand down Ryan’s back, stopping well above the curve of his ass. He steered Ryan over to the couch with a firm touch until he was sitting, slumped against the cushions. Shane hovered, uncertain of what Ryan needed.

 _Tea_ , he decided. Whenever someone was upset or in shock, his mother always served tea. Perhaps a beer might be more appropriate, but Shane didn’t like to mix magic and alcohol. Ryan could have a beer once he went home.

By the time Shane finished making tea and returned to Ryan, Shane found him leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands rubbing together. Shane knew they were probably tingling with residual magic. Thankfully, Ryan seemed more aware of his surroundings, less caught up in the spark and flow. Shane handed him the warm cup, which Ryan took gratefully. Shane sat on the couch, a respectable distance between them. He watched as Ryan took a sip, hands trembling only slightly. His arms were covered in goosebumps.

Shane wanted to kiss him. He wanted to twine their magic together, feel it hum. Without being connected, Shane can’t _feel_ Ryan or his magic, and every bit of him was crying out with loss. Shane grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest to keep his hands to himself.

“That was...incredible,” Ryan said finally. “Do you feel like that all the time?”

Shane wasn’t sure what Ryan meant. “I can always feel my magic. But I don’t feel all of that unless I’m actively using it. It’s different when you’re connected with someone, too.”

“It was intense.”

“I imagine so,” Shane agreed.

“Do you remember the first time you used your magic?”

Shane frowned as he thought. “Not really? It’s always just been a part of me. I can’t remember a time I didn’t know about it, didn’t make use of it. It’s a lot wilder with children, I do know that. They don’t know how to control it very well.”

“Neither do I,” Ryan said, humor edging his words.

“I can teach you some, if you want. I’m not the best teacher, to be honest, but if you progress far enough I could introduce you to someone.” Neha, perhaps. The ability to effectively train someone was a skill in itself, one Shane didn’t have. He had the patience but not always the words to explain. But she could do it, or would know someone who could.

Ryan was smiling at him. “I’d like that, big guy.”

“....Cool,” Shane said awkwardly. Ryan giggled at him. They settled into a comfortable silence. In the kitchen, the candles continued to burn merrily. It seems Shane’s anxiety had been for nothing. Ryan hadn’t set anything on fire, and connecting with him hadn’t revealed Shane’s long-hidden yearning. This was the best possible outcome, and that knowledge buoyed Shane’s spirits. He was hungry, and his best friend was here with him. It was a good day.

“Wanna get In ‘N Out?” Shane said, and laughed when Ryan said yes fast enough to cut him off.

Shane completely forgot this his mother called on Sundays, and was still in the car with Ryan on the way to get food when his phone rang. Nobody called him except work and his mother, so he didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

“Hey, mom,” Shane said, a small smile forming on his lips. Ryan leaned forward and turned the volume down on the radio. Shane sent him a grateful look.

“Hi, baby,” his mom greeted warmly. He could hear the clatter of dishes underneath her words. She was probably canning, or preparing items for her shop. “How are you?”

“I’m good. On my way to get food.”

“That explains why you’re so cheerful.”

“Food does make me happy,” Shane agreed. He glanced over at Ryan, who was blatantly listening in, not even attempting to hide it. Shane rolled his eyes at him and Ryan smiled back winsomely. “Ryan’s here with me.”

“Oh, wonderful. How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine, mom.” Shane paused, debating with himself. Then he said, “I taught him how to light a candle today.”

Shane’s mom was unexpectedly excited by this. “That’s amazing! Oh, I’m so proud of you both.”

Shane felt his cheeks turn pink. “It’s not like we did anything impressive.”

“Oh, hush. Like you sharing something private isn’t a big deal.”

  
Shane wrinkled his nose but couldn’t dispute it. Ryan chuckled as he stared out the window at the car in front of them. Since they weren’t going very fast, Shane reached over and jabbed him in the ribs. Ryan squealed like a pig, jerking away from Shane’s fingers, one hand leaving the steering wheel to protect his vulnerable side.

“Dick,” Ryan said loudly, smacking at Shane’s shoulder before returning his hand to the wheel.

“Do you hear the abuse I put up with?” Shane demanded of his mother. She laughed into the phone.

“Sounds to me like you deserved it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Madej!” Ryan shouted. Sherry laughed brightly, clearly having fun.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Shane complained. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, futilely hiding his smile.

“I will be when you deserve it.”

“Unbelievable,” Shane muttered, slumping in his seat as much as possible in the tiny car. Sherry changed the subject to the local news - Frank Witman’s son was getting married in January, can you believe; Shane’s cousin Derek tamed a raccoon and wanted to keep it for a pet; Shane’s dad had gotten it into his head the squirrels were waging a war against his African daisies; the mayor’s wife came into the shop for a poultice, but wouldn’t say how she’d gotten hurt.

Shane missed home with an ache that nearly took his breath away. He wanted to be there, watching the leaves change colors. He wanted to help mom with the canning, and meet the woman who had thawed Thomas Witman’s heart. He wanted to walk in the greenhouse and smell the soil and flowers.

His vacation could not come soon enough.

“I forgot to ask last week,” Sherry said, breaking into Shane’s maudlin thoughts. “Did you find a coven?”

“Uh,” Shane said weakly.

“Coven?” Ryan said, shooting Shane a wide eyed glance. His face lit up with curiosity.

“I asked Neha again,” Shane reported. “She said I’m always welcome at local meetups.”

“Have you gone to one?” Sherry pressed.

“No,” Shane sighed. He grimaced at his reflection in the window, the guilt that darkened his eyes. “I’ve been busy with work. And Ryan.”

  
Sherry fell silent for a long moment. Ryan sent him worried glances, biting at his bottom lip. He met Shane’s eyes and gave him a small, encouraging smile. Shane picked nervously at a loose thread at the hem of his shirt.

“I don’t like you being so alone,” Sherry said softly.

“I’m not,” Shane said quickly. “I’ll - go to another coven meeting.”

“Perhaps you could bring Ryan, since you’re so busy with him anyway,” Sherry suggested, something sly in her tone.

“ _Mom_ ,” Shane groaned. He wished she were here so he could share his crushing embarrassment and exasperation. Not that it’d stop her, but at least she’d know viscerally what she was doing to her youngest child.

“I’d love to go!” Ryan piped up. “And Shane’s not alone - he’s got me.”

“Does he now?” Sherry said. She was clearly loving this. Shane could picture her standing in her workroom, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, wearing her most comfortable, loose clothing. She was probably smirking.

Ryan sent Shane an unreadable look, something questioning in his dark eyes. Shane looked back blankly. _Read what you will into this, Ry,_ Shane thought.

“He does,” Ryan said firmly. “I can’t let a sasquatch wander around L.A. without supervision.”

Sherry was definitely smirking. “I’m glad I can entrust him to you.”

“I’m hanging up now,” Shane said very loudly. “Goodbye. I love you. See you soon!”

“I love you too,” Sherry said back. “Tell Ryan he’s welcome to join us for Samhain if he wants.”

With those parting words, Sherry hung up, leaving Shane to grip his phone in astonishment.

* * *

“So,” Ryan said meaningfully. “Covens. And So-en.”

“Can you please chew with your mouth closed,” Shane said wearily. Ryan started to chew faster, big obnoxious bites that gave Shane a great view of his masticated food. Giving in, Shane stuck his tongue out, the food in his mouth balanced precariously on it. Ryan copied him, half-eaten burger resting on his tongue. Some of it fell off, landing in his lap.

“Oh, shit!” Ryan said, laughing. He grabbed a napkin and cleaned up the food as best he could. Shane swallowed his food and shook his head with a smile. He shoved four fries into his mouth and chewed slowly. Ryan’s legs began to move up and down as he waited impatiently for Shane to pick up the conversation cue that Ryan had set down.

“Shane,” Ryan whined.

“Ryan,” Shane said, “I’m eating. Can’t a man enjoy his food in this day and age?”

“Fuck your chicken strips,” Ryan said in the same tone the vine used. “You, sir, promised me answers.”

Shane turned his head to stare mournfully out the window. “Where did I go wrong...how has it come to this…”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan said without heat. Shane stared longingly down at his french fries. He really was hungry. He loved french fries.

“A coven is really just a word for a community of witches,” he said, talking fast. “Usually made up of a few really close families who have similar ideals and outlooks on magic.” He shoved five french fries in his mouth this time, taking a moment to appreciate the salty, potato goodness before he started to chew.

“How many families make up your coven?” Ryan asked curiously.

“I mean, you could argue I don’t really _have_ a coven given that I don’t meet up with anyone regularly.”

“Is it that important? To meet up regularly, I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Shane furrowed his brow. “We’re stronger together. I think in the old days covens would get together to try big magic, like making it rain during a drought. Going to coven get-togethers strengthens bonds. It’s like setting down roots. It’s, it’s - lonely, when you go too long without sharing magic.”

Ryan asked softly, “Are you lonely, Shane?”

Shane shrugged. “It’s easy to open up back home, because I’ve been around those people my whole life. It’s more difficult to open up to people I don’t know well.”

Ryan nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s definitely you.”

Shane shrugged again. He could never think of things to say around people he didn’t know. His mind went totally blank. It was another reason to be grateful that he and Ryan had fallen into orbit around each other; Ryan was personable and outgoing. It was easy to sit back and let him do the talking. Shane could be charming when he wanted, but it came so naturally to Ryan.

“Would it help if we lit candles together again?”

Shane huffed out a laugh. “Sure, Ry. We can do that again. Once you master that, we can move on to something else.”

“Learning _and_ helping my bro,” Ryan nodded sagely. “A two-fer.”

“A two-fer, oh my fucking god,” Shane grinned. “You’re an idiot.”

“So what’s So-en?” Ryan asked.

“Samhain,” Shane said. “S-A-M-H-A-I-N.”

“Ah, I recognize that word,” Ryan nodded. “I didn’t realize it was pronounced weird.”

“ _You’re_ weird. Baby,” Shane added just to be obnoxious. That’s what Ryan got for calling him ‘bro’, like he was one of Ryan’s frat friends. Who were all genuinely nice people, Shane had to concede, but god. They were the epitome of bro. Shane found them entertaining but exhausting.

“Don’t call me baby,” Ryan snapped. Were his cheeks turning red? Shane grinned with delight. Ryan was too easy to tease, sometimes. Shane continued on.

“The year is divided up into eight time periods. Each period is celebrated by a festival, sometimes called a Sabbat. Samhain is the time where we celebrate those no longer with us - family members, pets, friends, whomever.”

“Isn’t there something about the veil between the living and the dead being thinner?” Ryan’s eyes were wide and a little scared. It was jarring, seeing that face in the comfort of Shane’s apartment.

“Some embrace that. My aunt is really big on that, actually. She invites the spirits of the dead to celebrate with us every year.”

  
Ryan gulped. Shane laughed at him, jabbing him with an elbow. “Easy there, little guy. I swear I’ve never seen a ghost in my life. Most of my family pay respects to our dead loved ones and give thanks to nature for what it’s given us this past year. We light a bonfire and do divination games. Some folks play horseshoes. There’s always a ton of food and drinks. We do little magic tricks - it’s just a good time.”

Shane smiled as he spoke, staring unseeing down at his burger wrapper. He was really looking forward to this year's Samhain, and not just because he’d get to see his family. He was ready to feel the chill in the air, hear the crunch of leaves underfoot. He wanted to drink cider and eat doughnuts, see the colorful sparks of magic against the dark backdrop of the woods that surrounded his childhood home. He wanted to feel the warmth of the roaring bonfire and eat sticky s’mores.

He wanted to go home.

Shane blinked back to reality. Ryan was watching him, the corners of his mouth turned down. His gaze flitted down to his folded hands.

“You, uh,” he said to his hands. “You really miss it.”

“I do. I’m excited to go back home.”

Ryan darted an uncertain look at Shane. He picked at a hangnail and was outright chewing on his bottom lip now. His shoulders were slumped sadly. If this were a movie, Ryan would be outside in the rain without an umbrella. Shane reached out and wrapped a hand around Ryan’s wrist, giving it a brief shake.

“What’s up?”

Ryan mumbled something, too quiet to hear. Shane gave him another shake until Ryan was looking at him. Shane raised his eyebrows in question.

“Are you happy here?” Ryan blurted out. He had peeled a thin layer of skin off his lip with his teeth. Shane watched it bleed and thought about pressing his mouth to it. It took a moment to gather his wits and respond.

“I have you and the rest of the crew. I like my job and the people I work with.”

“But are you happy _here_?”

“In my apartment?” Shane asked blankly.

“In L.A. Are you, like, do you have one foot out the door?”

“No! You’re - are you - what are you saying?”

“You look so happy when you think about Illinois. You called it home. I don’t want you to feel like you h-have to stay here, for Unsolved.”

“I love doing Unsolved,” Shane hastened to say. “I miss ho- Illinois, but I like it here. I want to stay here.”

“But it’s not your home.”

Shane didn’t know what to say to that. How did he explain that he felt rootless, like he had nothing tying him here? Shane loved doing Unsolved. He loved Ryan. But they weren’t _his_. Ryan shared his passion project and himself with Shane a little, but it wasn’t the same. Shane had work on other people’s projects, public nature walks, and a tenuous connection to a local coven. He had good friends who didn’t know all of him. Him leaving would make them sad but wouldn’t gut them. Obi and his plants could go back to Illinois with him.

“I want it to be my home,” Shane said honestly. “I just don’t have anything here.”

  
Ryan looked around Shane’s apartment, with its art prints and books, picture frames and plants. A butterfly in a glass case. “Dude,” he said.

“I don’t mean _things_ ,” Shane said with exasperation. “I mean...I…”

“Connection,’ Ryan said suddenly. His dark eyes were lit with understanding. “Your mom keeps worrying about you lacking connections.”

“Yeah,” Shane said, relieved. “That.”

“You have me, and Teej and Devon,” Ryan said fiercely. “Unsolved would collapse without you.”

Shane smiled thinly. “I’m not so sure that’s true.”

“Shane, _no_ ,” Ryan said, reaching out and grabbing a handful of Shane’s shirtsleeve. “Listen to me. I couldn’t do Unsolved without you. I _wouldn’t_ do Unsolved without you. It’s - it’s our baby.”

“Your baby,” Shane replied pointedly.

“No, _ours_ ,” Ryan argued. “You co-produce. You edit and suggest funny bits. You co-host. You think I trust just anybody to have that much input? There is no Unsolved without you.”

“Okay, Ryan,” Shane said, warmth settling into his chest. He reached up and patted Ryan’s hand. “I believe you.”

“You better,” Ryan threatened. His voice softened. “You can’t leave. I - what would I do without you, big guy?

Seconds stretched, went sticky and thick and slow. The air between them thrummed with tension. Shane looked at Ryan’s beseeching eyes, the way his lips were trembling ever so slightly with emotion. Suddenly, like a lightning strike, Shane thought he could lean forward and press his mouth to Ryan’s, to breathe the same air as him. Shane could find a home with him, here in L.A. Settle roots in Ryan, under his ribs, tucked close to his heart.

Shane wanted that more than he wanted to go back to Illinois.

He inhaled, ready to pick his path and start his journey with a kiss, when Ryan looked away. He laughed awkwardly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. Ryan leaned away from him just slightly. The lightning strike of realization reversed itself, gone as suddenly as it appeared.

“I-I mean. You’re important to me, you know. We took an oath.”

  
Shane exhaled, his shoulders hunching in. “You’d die of a heart attack if I weren’t here to watch out for you.”

“Yeah, probably,” Ryan laughed, but it was strained and awkward. When he fell silent, the jingle of the toy Obi was playing with was the only sound in the room. Shane wasn’t sure how to recapture that sense of utter certainty that Ryan wanted the same as him. Shane did want to stay in L.A. The city had grown on him despite himself, and he’d never loved a job more than he did the one he currently had. He wanted to share his magic and find a little coven - nothing so grand as Neha’s, but small and close - and share every bit of his life with Ryan.

He wanted to set down roots and grow.

But maybe the first step wasn’t a kiss, but an invitation. A bridge between Shane’s old life - comfortable and familiar - and his new one - exciting and challenging. If he wanted to build a home with Ryan, he should share where he came from.

“Do you want to come back to Illinois with me?” Shane asked abruptly. “Mom would be okay with it, she brought it up first.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, snapping his head up to look at Shane. “That’s - wow, I’d love to. Would it be okay?”

“The more the merrier. I know my family would love to meet you. Some of them watch the show.”

“It wouldn’t - you wouldn’t feel like I was...I don’t know...encroaching on your private time?”

“Encroach away,” Shane said grandly. Ryan giggled, but still looked a little too hesitant for Shane’s liking. “You don’t have to, I don’t want you to feel pressured. You’re new to all this. But I thought, I mean. Connections, right? If I’m going to stay in L.A., and I am, then I should, should have those.”

“I thought we kind of already had one,” Ryan said quietly.

“We do! But covens are about strengthening bonds, yeah? What better way than for you to see and, and, experience my original coven. If it doesn’t scare you off forever, maybe we could go to a local coven meeting together. _You_ don’t have to join, of course, but...”

Ryan made meeting new people easier. Shane would have an easier time opening up if there was someone familiar to ground him. Finding a coven would be another reason to stay.

“...All right, I’ll go.” Ryan smiled at him.

Behind Shane, the potted plants on the window ledge bloomed abruptly, pink and vibrant.


	7. Chapter 7

With the temperatures dipping in the Midwest, Shane gave Ryan a strict list of clothing to pack. Shane joked and called Ryan a Californian lily, but there was a kernel of truth to it. Ryan felt the cold quicker and deeper than most of the team, and they’d be spending a lot of time outdoors. Introducing Ryan to his family, to his home, inspired a peculiar mix of nerves and excitement that Shane wasn’t sure what to do with. It felt like he’d made a big decision, one that would send ripples through his life, but he wasn’t sure yet how things would shake out.

The stress of getting ahead at work for vacation was totally worth it when Shane saw how excited Ryan was when they met up at the airport. He looked tired, but had clearly caught up on some sleep he’d missed out on the week before. His hair was a mess and he was dressed in comfortable travel clothing, including a ratty Buzzfeed hoodie. He’d never looked better to Shane, especially when he smiled, vibrating with the kind of unrestrained glee he only displayed before a sports thing.

“Have you ever played ‘light as a feather, stiff as a board’?” Ryan asked as they settled into two unoccupied chairs, coffees in hand.

“Have you been watching witch-themed horror movies?” Shane asked, grinning.

“I rewatched _The Craft_ last night until I fell asleep,” Ryan admitted. “I haven’t watched many others, since you insist that real witchcraft isn’t like in the movies.”

“Ours isn’t, anyway,” Shane said. “I don’t want to speak for _all_ witches.”

“So, have you?” Ryan persisted.

“Yes, Ryan. I have.”

“ _Dude_. Did it work?”

“Of course it worked! It’s a simple spell. There’s a reason it’s a popular kid game.”

“Your childhood must have been insane,” Ryan said, awed. Shane shrugged. His life had actually been pretty normal, magic aside. He fought with his brother, whined about homework, and hung out with friends. Some of those friends had been part of his coven, some hadn’t. Some of their party games had involved spells, some hadn’t.

“I’ve been doing some research,” Ryan started, and Shane groaned.

“Ryan, I told you the internet isn’t to be trusted.”

Ryan leaned closer and lowered his voice. Shane instinctively leaned closer too, curious about the bullshit Ryan was going to start spouting. At least in this he could shoot down Ryan’s theories with actual experience to back it up.

“Is it true you guys dance naked on the full moon?”

“Ryan!” Shane shouted, covering his eyes with one hand. “I practice with my _mom_ , jesus christ.”

Ryan cracked up, that full body laugh that had first drawn Shane in. Head back, hand on his chest, mouth open and showing off those pearly whites, body shaking with mirth. He sucked in a breath and wheezed out, “Is she hot?”

Shane wouldn’t speak to him again until Ryan bought him an apology meal.

“I promise I don’t want to bang your mom,” Ryan said, the corners of his lips twitching up, ruining the solemn expression he was going for.

“I cannot have this conversation with you,” Shane said, taking a vicious bite out of his waffles. He glared at Ryan and his unmitigated gall. He would pay for this, Shane vowed to himself.

Still, if the tables had been turned Shane would have made the same joke. So as a peace offering, before they boarded the plane to O’Hare, Shane leaned down, bringing his mouth to Ryan’s ear, and whispered, “[Did you fuck my mom, Santa Claus](https://youtu.be/CNSgZpRyzsQ?t=58)?”

If the flight attendant was at all concerned about Ryan’s tears and non stop giggling through takeoff, she didn’t show it.

* * *

Before they went past the security area of the airport, where you can’t turn around and go back, Ryan insisted they stop at the bathroom. Shane waited impatiently outside the door, absently scrolling through twitter. When Ryan emerged, he’d changed into a nicer set of clothes. Shane felt rooted to the spot, the helpless victim to Medusa’s curse.

Ryan had changed into a warm, clingy sweater. It was maroon and contrasted beautifully with his tan skin and dark hair and eyes. Shane, helplessly, reached out to run a hand across Ryan’s chest, the material soft against his fingers. The material was too thick for Shane to feel Ryan’s heartbeat. Ryan sucked in a breath, looking up at Shane with wide, dilated eyes. His hand reached up to wrap loosely around Shane’s wrist, holding him in place.

“Uh,” Ryan said softly, and Shane yanked his hand away.

“Sorry,” Shane mumbled. “You, uh, look nice. I like your hair.”

A stupid thing to say, since Ryan hadn’t changed it since this morning. He’d left it ungelled, resulting in a mess of tangled curls. Shane really wanted to bury his hands in Ryan’s hair, watch as it curled around his fingers. Maybe even tug on it a little…

Shane turned away abruptly, calling over his shoulder, “Hurry up, little guy. We’re supposed to meet up with my parents.”

Shane kept a fast pace so Ryan would have to jog to keep up. He’d been hoping Ryan would save his breath for keeping up the pace and dodging the crowds, but Shane had forgotten that Ryan played basketball for fun, went to the gym _for fun_ , so this was nothing more than a light exercise for him.

“You told your family I was coming, right?”

“Yes, Ryan.”

“And there will be no nudity?”

“No, Ryan.” Not unless someone got horrifically drunk, anyway.

“We’re sharing a room?”

“Yes, Ryan.”

“Dude, could you at least look at me when -”

Shane lifted an arm to wave wildly at his parents, who were tucked away by a set of exit doors. They were wearing terrible Christmas sweaters, despite it being too early for them, and Shane’s dad loomed tall over the general swirl of people. Shane had to resist the urge to break into a run and throw his arms around them, though his speed did pick up slightly.

His mother pulled him into a tight hug immediately while Shane’s dad greeted Ryan. Sherry pulled away from Shane and examined him from head to toe. Her eyes narrowed slightly on his face.

“You look tired,” she said. He felt the press of her magic against his, felt her worry and joy and the hint of a headache at her temples. He smiled.

“I’m fine. I had to get ahead at work so I’ve been working more,” he explained. She seemed to accept that and squeezed him one more time before she stepped away to greet Ryan with a hug of his own. He sent Ryan a mock glare over her shoulder.

“Leave room for Jesus,” he told Ryan. “At least two feet apart at all times.”

A deep red flush bloomed on Ryan’s cheeks and down his neck. He pulled away from Sherry rather abruptly, leaving her looking between the two of them with a furrowed brow. “ _Shane_!” He hissed, embarrassed.

“I’m onto you, Bergara,” he said, pointing threateningly. Just to be a dick, he poked at Ryan with his magic, a parting jab between the two of them. Ryan startled at the touch, but his mouth curled up in a smile, like he was pleased. _No using your wiles on my mom._

Shane felt the magical equivalent of a touch on the shoulder from his father, a small, _is everything all right?_ It made Shane’s breath catch in his throat at the gentle familiarity of it. He turned to his dad with a smile. Neither of them were really huggers, so Mark simply stepped forward to clasp a hand on Shane’s shoulder. Mark felt just as happy to see Shane as his mother, and it warmed Shane deeply. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

It was good to be back.

* * *

“We’ll be bunking together, so don’t go thinking you can sneak off to visit my mom,” Shane warned Ryan as they dumped their stuff in Shane’s own room. Ryan groaned and collapsed on Shane’s bed.

“That joke got old an hour ago, dude.”

“I just thought it bore repeating!” Shane protested, grinning. Since he wouldn’t be staying for long - only four days of vacation, the rest saved up for Christmas - he didn’t bother to completely unpack his bags. He set out clothes for tomorrow, then grabbed his toothbrush and pajamas for the night. When he straightened up from where he’d been hunched over his bag, it was to find Ryan watching him, his eyes soft.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Ryan said. “I know how much this means to you.”

Shane gave him a small smile. “I’m glad to have you.”

That made Ryan smile widely, and Shane left him looking pleased and delighted, stretched out on Shane’s old bed. He ran into Scott on his way to the bathroom. His brother merely lifted an eyebrow at him, a quick glance at Shane’s open bedroom door all he needed to say.

“He wanted to come,” Shane said quietly.

“And you couldn’t say no,” Scott said knowingly. Shane shrugged helplessly. Scott laughed at him, shaking his head, and the touch of his magic felt almost like a friendly punch to the shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to get used to it. We got to talk before you leave, by the way. Don’t forget, dumbass.”

The talk was probably going to consist of Scott ruthlessly teasing Shane about his feelings, mixed in with some warnings about the difficulties of bringing people into a coven. Shane knew his family could already tell how he felt about Ryan and found a great deal of amusement in it. He was just grateful they accepted it, since there was no way he could find the words to explain the two of them. How Shane simply wanted to do and be whatever Ryan needed.

Shane was more than happy to let Ryan rush ahead. To make the plans, write the scripts. Shane was the steady foundation that supported Ryan’s big ideas, the rock upon which Ryan could plant himself while he reached up, up, up. Shane was the one to pull Ryan back when he went too far, reeled him in and kept him safe. Shane was chill until he wasn’t, when Ryan needed someone to hold him in place, keep him from spinning out. Ryan was an incredibly hard worker, dedicated and committed. But the other side of that was the late nights and quick meals, and Shane was more than happy to make sure Ryan took care of himself, by gentle force if necessary.

If Ryan wanted to know about magic, to experience it, then Shane would make sure he would in the safest way possible.

When Shane returned from the bathroom, teeth brushed and contacts removed, it was to find Ryan examining his bookshelf. He’d changed into his own pajamas in the meantime - sweats and a tank top, glasses on - and held his toothbrush and toothpaste in one hand. Shane watched as he took in the science fiction books, the horror novels, and the books about weird facts. The odd romance novel or two made Ryan breath a small laugh, his fingers drifting over the spines.

“You can borrow whatever catches your eye,” Shane said, and Ryan jumped. He spun around guiltily, biting his bottom lip. Shane grinned to let him know everything was fine. Ryan smiled gratefully but didn’t say anything as he shuffled past Shane, the remains of his aftershave lingering as he pressed close briefly. Did Ryan deliberately brush his hand against Shane’s or was it an accident?

The trick to keeping your sanity, Shane decided, was to just not think about things.

So he made sure the curtains were closed tightly before settling on the right side of the bed - his normal side, when sharing a bed with Ryan - and played on his phone in an effort to Not Think. It was successful, since he felt merely sleepy and content when Ryan reentered the room and casually climbed into his side of the bed. Shane watched out of the corner of his eye as Ryan pressed his face deeply into the pillow and breathed deeply. His mom still used the same detergent she always used, and the thought that Ryan was smelling what Shane smelled while growing up plucked at something in Shane’s chest.

Not thinking about it, Shane reminded himself decisively. He ignored Ryan making happy little noises as he got comfortable in Shane’s old bed - definitely not thinking about it - and plugged his phone in. He turned the lamp on the bedside table off and got comfortable, twisting so he was laying on his side, legs bent. His pillows smelled like comfort and Shane hummed.

Behind him, Ryan gave an answering hum. Shane felt the tentative curl of Ryan’s magic against his own, barely there. It carried with it Ryan’s drowsiness, his contentment, and it sent Shane off to sleep, their magic twining together.

* * *

Shane woke with his face a foot or so away from Ryan’s. He took a moment to watch Ryan sleep - his peaceful face, the hint of drool at the corner of his mouth, and the way his eyelids twitched as he dreamed. Shane breathed out, slowly, carefully, and thought about reaching out to pull on one of Ryan’s curls, straighten it out and watch it spring back. Instead, he rolled out of bed.

The clock said 9:18am. They’d gone to bed at a reasonable hour the night before, exhausted from navigating airports, the cramped flight, and the excitement of it all. Shane knew they’d probably have to nap later in the day if they wanted to stay up all night for the celebrations. Most of Shane’s family would arrive around dinnertime, which gave them plenty of time.

Shane grabbed his phone and a hoodie from his bag and followed the smell of bacon, bare feet quiet on the wooden floors. His dad was in the kitchen, making breakfast. Scott was a sleepy, slumped form at the end of the long table in the dining room. Shane could hear his mom humming from the little workroom just off the kitchen.

“Need help?” He asked, flaring his magic a little to announce his presence. Shane felt his mom’s gentle magic brush against his, while Scott’s was lethargic, more sloppy. He never lifted his head from his folded arms.

“I’m good, go ahead and sit down,” Shane’s dad gestured at the table with the spatula. Shane took a seat a couple chairs down from Scott and stretched out. He covered his mouth as he yawned and opened up one of those stupid, mindless games on his phone. Mark set a plate of food down in front of Scott before setting another in front of Shane. His stomach rumbled as he took in the full breakfast. His mouth watered.

Mark opened his mouth to speak, but Shane got there first. “I don’t have enough time to cook a full breakfast every morning.”

“You could get up earlier,” Sherry called from the next room.

“Shane get up earlier? This I’d like to see,” Ryan muttered as he stumbled in, rubbing at one eye. He took the seat next to Shane. Underneath the table, Ryan’s legs bumped Shane’s outstretched ones. The press of his leg against Shane’s was wonderfully warm. “Do you know how many times I’ve invited him to go to the gym before work?”

“That’s just combining two things I don’t like. Why would I want to do that? You see me sleep deprived enough as it is.” Shane slid an egg onto one of his pieces of toast before he took a big bite. He let out a small moan at the taste. In his head, he heard Homer Simpson’s voice go, “Mmm, bacon.” He looked at Ryan and found him staring. Shane grinned at him.

Mark set a plate full of food in front of Ryan, who jerked his gaze away to look down at it. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

“I didn’t know what you liked, but I figured you can’t go wrong with the basics,” Mark said, shrugging. He went back to the stove to grab the plate full of pancakes, setting it down in the middle of the table.

“I’m not picky,” Ryan reassured, which was such an understatement that Shane had to snort. Ryan sent him a glare, and a very shy, shaky poke with his own magic. Scott actually lifted his head from the table when he felt Ryan’s magic move, and Mark turned around to raise an eyebrow as well. Shane wasn’t sure why they were so surprised; he’d told his mom that he’d been teaching Ryan a little. Shane sent a much hardier poke back. Ryan ducked his head and took a bite of his toast to hide his smile.

“What are your plans for the day?” Mark asked as he took the seat opposite Ryan.

“Helping set up,” Shane said.

“Visiting the shop,” Scott suggested.

“Oooh, I want to do that!” Ryan said, eyes wide. He glanced between the three of them, looking eager.

Scott chuckled. “You can come with me, if you’d like. It’s not far.”

“Um,” Ryan hesitated. He turned to glance at Shane, who was feeling...out of sorts at the idea. He wanted to keep Ryan close, within his line of sight. Which was stupid - Scott wouldn’t let anything hurt Ryan, and he wouldn’t tell Ryan _too_ many embarrassing stories. Shane met Scott’s eyes, and Scott sent reassurance his way, along with enough magic to give Shane a little electric shock. He jerked his arm closer to his body and rubbed at it, glaring. Scott laughed.

“Scott,” Their dad warned. Ryan was looking between the two of them, twitching where he sat. Shane wasn’t sure how much practice Ryan had been doing on his own - for the state of his apartment, Shane hoped it wasn’t much - but he seemed more aware of what was going on around him, the undercurrents of magic.

“Go ahead with Scott,” Shane said finally. “He can answer any of your questions.”

“Are you sure? I can help set up instead,” Ryan said, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. He looked almost guilty at what he must have thought was skipping out on the hard work for the fun stuff.

“Oh, you’ll be dragged into helping soon enough,” Mark said cheerfully. “Nobody escapes Sherry’s grasp.”

“I heard that,” Shane’s mom said, voice drifting from the other room. “What else are men good for but moving heavy items?”

“I have some ideas,” Mark called back. Shane and Scott grimaced. Ryan outright laughed at them, until Shane knocked his fork out of his hand with a quick swipe of his magic.

“ _Shane_ ,” Mark said, exasperated. “Behave.”

“Yeah, Shane,” Ryan said, like the little shit he was. “Behave.”

Shane met Ryan’s gaze and sent him a dark look. Ryan’s smirk slowly faded as he stared back, unblinking, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. When he didn’t look away after a solid minute, Shane blinked and looked down at his plate, wrong-footed. So, the staring was new. Definitely not something to dwell on though. With a single, sharp nod to himself, Shane took another bite of his food. When he looked up, however, he was dismayed to find Scott looking between Shane and Ryan, his dark eyes glinting. He smirked at Shane.

They finished breakfast not long after. Ryan skipped a morning shower -

“Dude, I am not going out into that cold ass weather with wet hair -”

\- so Shane took one in his stead. He’d expected Ryan and Scott to be gone by the time he was out, so he was surprised to find Ryan standing in the hallway by the front door, fidgeting. Ryan watched as he took the stares down two at a time. Shane felt self-conscious all of a sudden, with his wet hair messy from a quick towel dry and his feet bare. He’s been in nothing but swim trunks in front of Ryan before, it made _no sense_ that he’d feel this way. But Ryan’s dark eyes were following him, looking intently, and he could almost feel the touch of his gaze over Shane’s skin. It made him break out in goosebumps.

“H-heading out then?” He asked, striving for casual and missing it. He winced internally at the stutter.

“Mm,” Ryan nodded, still _looking_. “Wanted to say goodbye.”

“Ah,” Shane said awkwardly. “Uh, well, see you soon? I’ll be here.”

Ryan gave him a soft smile. His eyes were so _warm_ , so fond. “Yeah, big guy, I know.”

“Lets goooo,” Scott said, walking between the two of them. He tossed Ryan’s coat over his head and slipped his own on. He yanked the door open and shouted, “Kiss each other goodbye, we got places to be!” and was out the door. Shane let out a nervous laugh as Ryan yanked the coat off his head and put it on. He buttoned the coat up, his eyes never leaving Shane’s face.

“What an asshole.” Shane ran his hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp. “I’ll probably be out back when you get home.”

“Mh, okay,” Ryan said. He smiled suddenly, brightly, and his magic reached out to wrap around Shane in what felt like a hug before Ryan was sauntering out the door, calling out a casual, “See ya, Shane!” over his shoulder as he went.

Shane remained, startled and warm, at the foot of the stairs.

* * *

By the time Scott and Ryan returned, Shane and his dad had set out most of the tables. They were long, wooden monstrosities meant to hold all the food a large gathering necessitated, and were kept in the shed near the woods. Hauling them out and across the large backyard was a pain in the ass. Shane was stretched out on the ground, looking at the blue sky and fluffy clouds, when Ryan suddenly loomed over him.

“Taking a break?” Ryan asked.

“I’ve earned it,” Shane said easily.

“You didn’t tell me going to the shop meant hauling things around,” Ryan said pointedly, collapsing into the grass next to Shane. They were close enough for their arms to brush.

“Like you had a problem with that, Bergarma,” Shane said, tapping Ryan’s arm with his fingers. “You’ll be glad you did it when you drink the honey mead or honeysuckle wine.”

“I...have never heard of either,” Ryan confessed. Shane smiled and closed his eyes. The wind blew, bringing with it the smell of pine and dirt. Shane sent a tendril of magic into the ground, using it to spread his awareness out. There was a doe not too far into the woods, looking for food. A sparrow chirped from the roof of the house, probably passing through for warmer climes. This family’s land was as familiar to him as his own body.

Someday, Shane wanted a place with a tiny plot of land - all he’d ever be able to afford in L.A - where he could grow his own flowers and herbs, plus little vegetables to eat. He could picture Ryan learning how to grow things with him. Magic was like any skill - the more you used it, the easier it became. Ryan had already come such a long way. He could make plants bloom, Shane was sure of it.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryan whispered. Shane opened his eyes, turning his head slightly. Ryan had rolled onto his side, his head propped up by one hand, elbow bent and resting on the round. He was _looking_ at Shane again, but Shane was halfway gone, feeling the leaves rustle with the wind. It made him relaxed.

“Thinking about setting up my own little garden,” Shane whispered back.

“Where? Back home?” Ryan asked, looking hopeful.

“Yeah. Find a place with a teeny bit of land. Help things grow.”

“Good luck affording that on your own.” Ryan looked regretful, like he was ruining Shane’s dream. Shane smiled at him. Ryan relaxed immediately.

“Guess I’ll need a roommate.”

“Oh,” Ryan said. He smiled. “Got anyone in mind?”

“Oh, you know, a few people.”

Ryan giggled and laid back down on the ground. They were silent for a moment before Ryan repeated, “I’ve never had honey mead or honeysuckle wine.”

“S’good. Honey mead makes you feel like something good is going to happen. The wine makes you see in the dark.”

“ _What_?” Ryan sat up, peering excitedly down at Shane. Shane squinted up at him, vaguely amused.

“What what?”

“You can make food do that?”

Shane laughed. “It’s all just chemistry and magic. If a potion can make you more easily recall something, why can’t food make you happy, or reflective?”

“Seeing in the dark, though?”

“Ryan,” Shane said, smiling up at him. “There’s so much more out there than you know.”

“I want to know everything,” Ryan said with sudden, startling intensity. Shane’s smile slipped a little at it, surprised. “Shane, _Shane_ , I want to know everything about you. About this stuff.”

“That - that’s a lot, Ryan. A lifetime of learning. Even I don’t know everything.”

“Guess I’ll just have to stick around, then. So you can teach me and we can learn together.” Ryan looked nervous as he said it, rubbing his fingers together. His gaze dropped to watch his hands. Shane took in his bowed head, his dark eyelashes contrasting so pretty with his skin. His lips looked soft and temptingly pink. Shane knew with a bone-deep certainty that Ryan Bergara was the most beautiful man in the world. Shane’s magic came rushing back, out of the trees, slipping through the grass, to settle around Ryan, warming the air around him.

“.....guess so.” Shane could do nothing but agree. It’s what he wanted too, after all.

Ryan _glowed_ with joy.


	8. Chapter 8

Shane and Ryan take a nap in the late afternoon. It was weird climbing into bed with Ryan when both of them were awake and the sun was high in the sky, but it was pleasant too. Shane was a strong supporter of naps and one of his favorite things to do was take one with somebody. To listen to their breathing even out and deepen and know there was someone with him. Shane was disappointed to wake up and find he and Ryan were still on their own sides of the bed, and had to remind himself that this wasn’t some movie or romance novel.

When they woke up, they had only a light snack to tide them over. Shane’s mom and dad had taken over the kitchen to finish making food for the party - rose hip soup, cupcakes made with crystalized pansies, and lavender tea cookies to name only a few - so they grabbed a bag of chips and retreated to the living room to watch Netflix.

People showed up in a flood, like they’d heard some invisible signal. Shane introduced people as they swept by, carrying their own food offerings, candles, or little charm. Each one greeted Shane with a careful touch of their magic against his, and each touch reminded Shane that he wasn’t completely alone. Ryan stood at his side, greeting people with that wide, sweet smile he gave so freely.

By the time the last of the people had trickled in, the backyard was full of people. A pile of socks and shoes lay abandoned near the house. The bonfire in the backyard was lit over a patch of land covered in sand. Its flames licked and sparked at the sky, the huge pile of brush and branches burning merrily from safely inside the ring of rocks. Ryan seemed stunned at the sheer size of it, and Shane knew something this big would probably get you in a lot of trouble back home, where forest fires were a real concern.

They gathered around the crackling fire, several feet back to avoid overheating. They formed a loose circle and held hands. It was quiet, with just the birds and the remaining insects as background noise. Ryan’s hand felt sweaty in Shane’s, and he gave it a small squeeze to reassure him. There was no outward sign but the tingling of Shane’s hands as the last people held hands and closed the circle. Shane’s awareness of his cousin Amanda to the left of him, and of Ryan to the right of him, swelled and settled. Through them, he felt who they were holding hands with - cousin Derek and the neighbor down the road, John - and so on until Shane felt like he was standing beside everyone, was part of everyone, all at once. Contentment and excitement swept through him, his own emotions buoyed by the others, and the flames of the bonfire grew startling high.

The wind blew gently against them, rustling their clothes, cooling them off, and then Shane’s aunt began to speak.

“We give thanks,” she said solemnly, “to the crops and animals that have fed us through the year. We pay our respects to those who came before us and are now lost. We pay respects to those lost just recently. We ask that nature grant us plenty of bounty in the coming time, and look upon us all with a favorable eye.”

Shane’s family had never held to pomp and circumstance. When the last of her words cut through the clearing, the person to her left stepped forward. There were four buckets placed around the fire in roughly the four cardinal directions. The buckets were filled with dirt from the greenhouse and ashes from last year’s fire. Alexis stepped forward and grabbed a handful before tossing it onto the fire, which turned to a deep blue color for thirty seconds before slowly returning to its normal red-orange. Her husband James stepped forward next and grabbed his own handful out of the same bucket, tossing it on the fire with a smile barely visible through his thick beard. This time, the fire turned a bright green, the kind of vibrant coloring that spooky stuff in cartoons always had.

Around the circle they went, each taking their turn. Scott’s magic turned it a deep, intimidating red; Sherry’s a yellow so strong it hurt to look at. Mark gave the fire a rosy brown tone. When it was Ryan’s turn, he squeezed Shane’s hand once before stepping forward to grab his own handful of the mixture. He hesitated for a moment. Shane watched his shoulders rise and fall as Ryan took a deep breath before tossing it into the fire. It turned a beautiful violet. Ryan returned to Shane’s eyes with glittering eyes and a shy, pleased smile. Shane’s turn resulted in a forest green hue.

It ended where it began, with Shane’s Aunt Beth tossing her mixture in - slate gray - and then the circle broke and people swarmed for food and drink. Shane could still feel every single one of them like little points of light in his chest.

The long tables they’d hauled over were filled with bowls and plates full of food. The alcoholic drinks were kept separate from the rest, with a strong charm against young hands taking what they shouldn’t. Little buckets of water had been placed under the tables, and floating on top of them were candles spelled to keep the bugs and scavengers away. Shane picked through the food, building a plate of his favorites, while Ryan attempted to create a tower out of every offering, eager to try it all.

“You’re going to be too full to do anything,” Shane laughed.

“It’s so worth it though,” Ryan replied, walking with exaggerated care over to one of the lawn chairs.

“If you get sick, I’m not cleaning it up,” Shane warned, and dipped a cracker into the homemade dip. Ryan didn’t reply, too busy moaning over whatever he had in his mouth, eyes already eyeing his plate for what to try next. Shane left him to it, instead falling into a conversation with one of the guys he’d grown up with.

To Ryan’s credit, he’d at least tried everything on his plate before giving up. He rubbed his stomach and groaned, sinking deeper into his chair. His lips looked wet in the dim light.

“You gonna be all right?” Jaden asked, leaning around Shane to eye Ryan with concern.

“He always does this,” Shane said. Ryan rubbed his belly again and made another noise. Shane shook his head with exasperation.

“I’m going to have to go to the gym every morning for a week to work this off,” Ryan grumbled, still sliding his hand up and down his belly.

Jaden laughed. “There are more fun ways to burn calories.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow at him. Shane clenched his fists.

Jaden held up his hands. “That’s how I do most of my workouts. With my boyfriend, whom I love very much.”

Ryan’s eyebrows returned to their normal place. Shane rubbed at his face with one hand and sent an annoyed jab of magic Jaden’s way. He sent back a poke that felt ticklish, little fizzes that traveled along Shane’s nerves and made him shiver. Behind them, someone tripped over the leg of an empty chair and nearly went sprawling. Their drink sloshed over the side of their cup and onto the seat.

“Some people just can’t wait for happy hour,” Jaden noted, and then blinked. “Uh, that’s my idiot who can’t wait.” He left without another word to help his idiot, and Shane could feel Jaden’s love and amusement filling up his chest.

“Oh my god,” Ryan said, “I’d forgotten about your fancy drinks.”

“They’re hardly fancy,” Shane objected, but Ryan was rocketing out of the chair to get to the alcohol table. He pushed his way through the crowd of people, disappearing from view. Music began to drift from one of the stereos attached to an extension cord, and some people began to dance. Shane spotted his parents flailing around and laughed. Beside them, John the neighbor was doing a passable rendition of the robot, even if it didn’t fit the beat.

Ryan’s gone for longer than expected. Just when Shane thought about getting up to find him, he reappeared, flushed and smiling. Shane took the drink Ryan offered - the wine - and took a sip. Ryan dragged the chair he’d originally sat in closer to Shane’s and sat in it. He stretched his legs out, toes wiggling in the grass.

“You gonna dance, big guy?”

“Not until I have at least two more drinks,” Shane said.

“Pretty sure I saw a couple guys lighting up some weed,” Ryan said, throwing Shane a sideway glance.

“Mm. Yeah, it’s not legal here, but we’re on private property. Out of view.” The wind would carry any smoke into the direction of the woods, away from the road. Shane didn’t worry.

After finishing his cup of wine, Shane stood. He dragged Ryan around the yard with him, introducing him to people. Ryan mostly listened - not every topic was about magic, but some were, and he soaked up any tidbits like there’d be a test later. Mara was teething and needed some numbing gel from Sherry. Derek continued to feed the raccoon and coax it out.

Kids ran around, tripping up the adults, playing hide and seek. They used magic to conceal themselves and magic to seek them out, and one little boy named Thomas, who was “nine years old, almost an adult!” showed Ryan how to direct his magic to do what he wanted, the little rhyming phrases kids learned until doing it was as natural as breathing.

They ran into Shane’s mom near the bonfire, where she was talking to an elderly woman named Joanne about the cost of a poultice to ease arthritis pain. Joanne gave them a nod and wandered her way over to the food table, muttering about bad knees and dissolute youths.

“You’ll need these,” Sherry said, pressing a peeler and a couple hazelnuts into Ryan’s hands. Ryan smiled down at them uncertainly. Shane giggled at his expression.

“Thanks?”

“You’ll also need this,” Sherry said, handing over a lighter. This made Shane raise his eyebrows in surprise. Sherry leaned forward and kissed Ryan on his forehead, a little _smack_ that had Ryan laughing.

“Two feet,” Shane repeated, and Ryan sighed wearily.

“Someday, I’d like to know what that’s about,” Sherry said, and when both grimaced at her, she laughed and wandered off to find her sister. Ryan slipped the items into the pocket of his hoodie, tilting one head at Shane.

“What’re these for?”

“You’ll find out.”

“Tell me now,” Ryan whined. He tugged on Shane’s shirt. “Shane, Shane, Shane, tell me _now_.”

“What are you, five?”

Ryan pouted, so Shane got him another glass of the wine just to watch his eyes light up. As far as distractions went, it worked. Ryan started pointing out animals he could make out in the trees, or birds he could spot flying in the dark. It was endearing, how excited he got about things Shane found so mundane now. Ryan was good about sharing his emotions, and it was even easier now that he could just shove them at Shane so he could feel them too.

Shane found himself sharing too. He was reaching out, flinging his contentment about, laughing loudly at his cousin’s stupid arguments, the same ones they had every year. He shoved his affection at his brother almost violently, and soothed one of the little ones who’d scraped their knee on a tree root. He blanketed them in reassurance and hefted them up onto his shoulders, listening to them squeal. Shane carried them like that for a good ten minutes before they started kicking their feet and demanding to be let down. Ryan followed him his smile wide, and the amount of fondness he was aiming Shane’s way made it difficult to remember to place his feet carefully, lest he stumble and drop his human cargo.

The joy and good humor seemed to get stronger, a wave of emotion that pressed in from all sides, sweeping everyone up in it, including Ryan. He was getting better about letting his magic go. It joined everyone else’s as easy as breathing, another thread in the tapestry. Ryan pressed his confusion against Shane when he saw kids peeling an apple and throwing it behind their shoulder, only to run and look at it.

“The peeler!” Shane yelled at him over the music, gesturing toward Ryan’s pocket. Ryan’s eyes widened with understanding and he pulled it out. He held it up like an offering. “Go grab an apple out of the bucket.”

Ryan followed where Shane was pointing. He nodded. When he returned, he was holding two apples, one of which he held out to Shane.

“I’ve done this a hundred times before,” Shane grumbled.

“Then what’s one more time?” Ryan asked.

“Use the peeler to peel the apple,” Shane instructed when they’d moved further away from the stereo and the crush of people, underneath the branches of a large oak tree near the greenhouse. “Try to make the peel as long as possible. When it’s done, give it a little bit of your magic and toss it over your shoulder.”

“What’s this supposed to do?”

“It’s supposed to curl into the first letter of your future spouse’s name.”

“No shit,” Ryan breathed out, looking down at the apple in his hand. “You make it sound like it doesn’t work.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t. Mom says her peel formed the letter ‘M’ the Samhain before dad asked her out, but didn’t do anything in the years before that.”

Shane wiggles his toes in the grass as he watches Ryan peel. He had his tongue sticking out just slightly, clenched between his teeth. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he slowly moved the peeler over the apple’s skin. When it broke, with less than half the apple peeled, he made a low sound of disappointment.

“There’s plenty of apples,” Shane said kindly. “Just grab another.”

Ryan shrugged and took a large bite out of the one in his hand. “Yesh, okay,” he said through his mouthful, and hurried to get another one. He left the peeler with Shane. Shane tapped his apple with the peeler a couple times before shrugging and getting started. He felt Ryan returning before he heard him, a familiar source of Ryan-ness, all good humor and steady support.

“Holy shit, dude,” Ryan said, peering down at the apple in Shane’s hands. He’d managed to peel about 80% of it in one go, the apple peel dangling down. Shane worked casually, his hands confident, and held up the curly peel between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Shane said.

“So now what?” Ryan asked, tucking the apple core he hadn’t eaten into his hoodie.

“Now I give it a little magic -” Shane’s fingers tickled as he soaked the apple peel in his magic - “and give it a toss over my shoulder.”

So he did. It landed soundlessly behind him. Shane turned to find it, but Ryan was already moving, peering down at the ground, muttering about wine and night vision. Shane followed him, ready to laugh at the spiral of the apple peel and go get a snack. When Ryan froze, Shane peered over his head.

“P?” Shane guessed desperately. His heart was pounding. Were his palms getting sweaty? Shit.

“I don’t think so,” Ryan said quietly. “Looks like an ‘R” to me.”

The peel had landed so the one end looped twice, once to form the top curve and once to form the little tail. It was unmistakably an “R”. Shane didn’t know what to do with that.

“Well,” Shane said, a flustered laugh escaping his throat. “Isn’t that, that, uh, interesting.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said. He took his phone out of his pants pocket and snapped a quick picture. He turned to look at Shane, who had moved close to him to look over his head, and now found himself well within Ryan’s personal space. They were definitely breathing the same air. It felt twice as warm as it did a minute ago.

“I can feel your air intake,” Shane said stupidly, and Ryan breathed out a laugh.

“You going to take a step back?”

“No,” Shane replied, because his feet weren’t listening to his brain. No part of him was listening to his brain, including his brain. Head empty, Shane thought distantly. Ryan’s eyes gleamed and he swayed forward. Shane leaned down to meet him, one hand lifting to cradle Ryan’s jaw.

Ryan’s lips were warm and a little chapped. The kiss was just a quick one, a press of lips, but it made Shane’s body break out in goosebumps. Shane’s magic felt like bubbles popping in his veins, so joyful and ticklish it made him smile. Shane pulled away, just far enough to break the kiss. He slid his other hand so it rested on Ryan’s lower back, pulling him in closer. Ryan’s body was warm, his hoodie soft against Shane’s palm, and he smelled good, something undefinable but very Ryan.

“Shane,” Ryan murmured, opening his eyes to look at him. “Kiss me again.”

So Shane did. He closed his eyes and kissed Ryan with all the pent up yearning he’d felt for so long he’d forgotten how to feel any different. Ryan opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, angling his body so it was pressed against Shane’s more. His hands buried themselves in Shane’s hair, grip tight like Shane might pull away. Ryan’s magic reached out for his, slipping out from every point of contact until they were so tightly wound together that Shane wasn’t sure where his began. A feedback loop of magic and emotion, like two magnets of opposite poles pulling the other in.

Ryan felt like joy and brightness, like the warmth of the summer sun and early mornings spent lounging in bed. Shane was in his head and in his veins. To Ryan, Shane felt like the soothing coolness of a swim on a hot day, like laughter and unshakable support. Ryan trembled in Shane’s arms and whimpered when Shane touched his tongue to Ryan’s lips. They deepened the kiss, arousal curling low in their stomachs, until a small giggle and the poke of curious magic broke the spell. Their lips parted with a soft, wet sound.

“Kissin’!” The little girl, Sam, giggled.

They blinked at her, minds struggling to switch tracks. She grinned up at them, her right front tooth missing.

“Um,” Ryan said dazedly. He licked his lips.

“Hn,” Shane said, watching Ryan’s mouth. He blinked three times in quick succession, struggling to get his brain in gear.

“Wanna play hide and seek with us?” Sam asked.

“No thanks,” Ryan said. “We’re - we were -”

“Kissin’,” Sam nodded. “I saw. If you don’t want to play, that’s okay. Just don’t say you saw me.”

“Promise,” Ryan managed to say, and then she was slipping into the bushes, out of sight. Shane rubbed at his mouth, knowing it’d be red and a little swollen from the kisses. He glanced at Ryan to find him already looking at Shane, the corner of his mouth quirked into a smile.

“Back to the party, big guy?” Ryan asked. Shane couldn’t tell if that’s what he wanted, or if he wanted to sneak upstairs to Shane’s old room and make out some more. Shane desperately wanted to do that. He wanted to peel Ryan out of his layers of clothing and touch him, get his mouth and hands on him. But this was also his last chance to see his family for a while...

“Just a little longer,” Shane agreed, and dared to take Ryan’s hand as they went back to the party.

* * *

When they wander back, there’s a sizable group of people gathered around the bonfires. Shane nudges Ryan’s arm with his elbow, and points to a teenage boy who had tossed a couple of hazelnuts near the fire. Ryan watched as the hazelnuts popped, and the teen’s shoulders slumped.

“Do you still have the ones my mom gave you?” Shane asked quietly. Ryan nodded, digging through the pocket of his hoodie. He pulled them out and held them so Shane could see them sitting in the palm of his hand.

“You name one of them for yourself,” Shane said, leaning down so his face was close to Ryan’s, both of them hunched over Ryan’s hand. Shane’s hair brushed Ryan’s temple, a soft touch. Shane reached out with one hand and nudged one. “You name the other for the person you desire.”

“What then?”

“You toss ‘em near the fire,” Shane jerked his chin toward the roaring bonfire. “If they jump away from the heat, it’s a bad sign. If they roast quietly, it indicates a good match.”

“You guys have a lot of rituals about love,” Ryan noted. Shane smiled down at him from inches away, enjoying the reflection of the firelight in Ryan’s eyes.

“Love is a driving force in most people’s lives, Ryan.”

“I know it is in mine,” Ryan agreed, smiling up at Shane. Shane turned his gaze down toward their feet and smiled. He reached up to scratch at his head, feeling suddenly shy. Beside him, Ryan chuckled.

“Near the fire, not in it?”

Grateful that Ryan wasn’t pushing any further, Shane nodded. He was still standing close enough to feel Ryan’s spark of magic surge toward his right hand. Ryan looked down at the hazelnuts in the palm of his hand, and then brought them closer to his face. He peeked around, but nobody seemed to be paying them any attention, nor were they standing close enough to overhear over the chatter and music.

“Ryan Bergara,” he told his palm. Shane felt a rush of warmth for him, for the way he was embracing Shane’s way of life whole heartedly. Even if he looked ridiculous talking to his own hand. Ryan glanced up at Shane and sent him the warmest, softest look he’d ever seen. Heat rushed to Shane’s cheeks and he ducked his head away again, looking at the fire.

“Shane Madej,” Ryan named the second hazelnut, and then tossed them. Being the sporty guy he was, they landed close to the fire without rolling in or bouncing away. They settled just outside the ring of rocks marking the fire’s edge. As the seconds ticked by, there they sat, side by side, roasting quietly.

Shane exhaled in a long, slow breath. A smile spread across his face until his cheeks hurt with the force of it. A swell of emotion made his chest ache, made his magic dance until his fingertips tingled. Joy and relief and so much love he wasn’t sure where to put it all, until it spilled out and into Ryan, whose own face was glowing with breathless wonder.

“Shane,” Ryan laughed, and stood up on his tiptoes to meet him halfway when Shane leaned down for a kiss. It wasn’t a great one, as far as kisses went, since they were too busy smiling to make it work. Ryan’s fingers were trembling where they cupped Shane’s face to hold him close.

“Lets go inside,” Shane said urgently. “We don’t have to - I just want you, however I can have you.”

“You’ve got me, you’ve got me,” Ryan said, pressing his lips to Shane’s chin. “Lets go.”

Ryan grabbed Shane’s hand and all but dragged him away from the party. Shane kept his eyes on the back of Ryan’s head but he could feel everyone’s amusement and approval as they hurried past. He tightened his grip on Ryan’s hand and focused on the rush of emotion he could feel from Ryan - nervous anticipation; the slow, warm curl of arousal; and beneath all that, the deep warmth of love. He hadn’t let himself reach out and feel Ryan’s emotions before - didn’t need to, with Ryan being so open about his anger and his joy. In Shane’s mind, reaching out to feel his emotions, especially the deeper ones, was crossing some sort of line. But now, with Ryan practically shoving his emotions at Shane, it felt like just another thing they did.

The only light in the house that remained on was the kitchen light, and only so one could find the bathroom if necessary. Ryan hesitated in the doorway, so Shane took the lead. He tugged Ryan around the giant island and down the hallway to the stairs. They took them two at a time, steps heavy and loud in the quiet. When Shane entered the room, he blinked in confusion. The curtains over his windows had been thrown open, letting in the moonlight. He was certain he’d left those closed.

“Where’d the candles come from?” Ryan whispered.

“Scott, probably,” Shane said, rolling his eyes.

“Did you tell him -?”

“What, that we were going to have sex? Yes, Ryan. I sure did do that,” Shane said dryly. Never mind the fact that Ryan had been with him since they’d kissed, and Shane had no intention of making a move tonight.

“Then how did he know?”

“He most likely didn’t, he just wanted to give me a hard time,” Shane said. Setting up romantic candles in the room Shane was sharing with the man he was in love with? Yeah. He paused. “The lighter makes sense though.”

“The lighter?” Ryan’s face went blank before realization dawned. “ _Oh_. The one your mom gave me. Oh god, do you think _she_ knows?”

“Nah, it’s just a thing she does. She always knows what people need.”

“What? Is that a thing?”

“For my mom, it is. She used to give us bandaids hours before we’d need it, or money for the ice cream truck a day before it came around. She doesn’t know why we need it, just that we do.” She’d sent Shane off to L.A. with a cat bed years before he adopted Obi.

“That is _awesome_. Your mom has a superpower.”

“Can we not talk about my mom right now? Unless…” Shane widened his eyes dramatically. “Is that what gets you going? I know you think my mom is sexy -”

“I do _not_ think your mom is sexy. She’s a nice lady but I’m not - she’s not - she’s not the Madej I have feelings for.”

Shane nodded slowly, sadly. “I understand. Scott will be so surprised.”

“Asshole,” Ryan said loudly, pushing Shane until he stumbled deeper into the room. “I’m not in love with your brother, either.”

Ryan followed him in, closing the door behind him. He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the apple core, now turning brown. With a grimace he dumped it into the little garbage bin by Shane’s door, and pulled out the lighter.

“Could we just use magic?” Ryan asked as he approached the candle on Shane’s dresser.

“Probably not a good idea to start fires when we’re feeling horny,” Shane said. Anticipation was a constant thrum under his skin now. It was making it a little difficult to focus on anything other than Ryan and his warm skin and big eyes.

“Horny boys,” Ryan wheezed, and lit the candle. He walked to the second one and lit that too, then tossed the lighter to Shane. He dropped it, smiling at Ryan’s laugh, and used it to light the last candle on the other side of the bed, opposite Ryan.

The room was lit in a gentle glow, just bright enough to make out the bed and each other. Ryan’s smile slowly faded until he was staring solemnly at Shane. When he moved , Shane met him halfway, at the foot of the bed. He reached out, brushing his thumb against Ryan’s bottom lip.

“Ry,” he said, unable to find the words, helpless against the tenderness he was feeling. Ryan pressed his lips against Shane’s thumb in a tiny kiss, his tongue peeking out to swipe at it. Shane shivered.

“You make so…” Ryan murmured, staring up at Shane. He grabbed the front of Shane’s flannel and dragged him closer, until there was no room between them, until Ryan was craning his neck to look at Shane’s face from this angle. “Crazy,” he finished, and pulled Shane into a messy kiss.

Ryan opened his mouth to Shane’s tongue even as his fingers fumbled with the buttons on Shane’s shirt. Shane buried his fingers in Ryan’s hair and pulled just so, until Ryan was whining in his mouth, his hands going slack against Shane’s chest.

“Take off your clothes,” Shane rasped, and reluctantly let go. He watched as Ryan flung his hoodie over his head, followed by a long sleeved shirt, and then a short sleeved shirt. Shane snorted at all the layers and peeled off his flannel, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. He unbuckled his pants and unzipped them. Ryan made a noise like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. Shane looked up to find him halfway out of his pants and boxers, staring at Shane’s chest, at the way his pants and belt hung open.

“Fuck,” Ryan said vehemently. “Come here now, please, _please_ -”

“Easy, Ry,” Shane said. He held onto Ryan’s shoulders as he balanced on one leg to kick off one side of his pants, then the other. When he was done, Ryan reached out with one hand, setting it gently on Shane’s chest. He ran his hand down, the tips of his fingers barely touching Shane’s skin, a trail of goosebumps following. Past the little curve of Shane’s belly, until Ryan was following his happy trail down.

“You aren’t wearing underwear,” Ryan said, and slid his hands into Shane’s pants, hands resting on Shane’s hips, and shoved them down. He made a hungry noise deep in his throat when Shane’s cock came free, and his breathing grew heavier.

“You’re so big,” he muttered, and licked his bottom lip. Shane’s cock twitched. Ryan crowded in close. Ryan’s cock slid against Shane’s thigh and he moaned, head tilted back, eyes half closed. Shane twisted so he was against Ryan’s stomach and rolled his hips, shuddering at the feel of Ryan’s warm skin against the tender head of his cock. He held Ryan close.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” Ryan said shakily, eyes still at half mast. “The things I wanna do…”

Shane turned and pushed Ryan down onto the bed. As Ryan scooted backward toward the head, Shane followed, climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees so he was hovering over Ryan. He took in the line of him, stretched out across Shane’s old bed, naked and beautiful. His nipples were hard and Shane leaned forward to suck on the right one. He scraped his teeth gently against Ryan’s nipple and felt him jerk against Shane.

“What do you want to do, if you’ve thought about it so much?” Shane asked. He lifted his eyes from Ryan’s chest to meet his gaze. “What did you think about when you touched yourself?”

Ryan shivered. “I - I -”

Shane leaned down to suck on Ryan’s left nipple. Ryan buried his hands in Shane’s hair, holding him close. When Shane pulled back, his nipples were red and wet. Ryan reached down to brush his thumbs across his nipples, moaning softly. One hand was keeping Shane balanced as he hunched over Ryan, but the other he ran up Ryan’s thigh, spreading his legs further. “I’d be happy just watching you jerk off. Legs spread, one hand on your red, leaking cock, the other pinching your own nipples…”

“Shane,” Ryan pleaded. “Please, please touch me.”

“But Ry, you haven’t told me what you _want,”_ Shane grinned. His cock throbbed at the beautiful sight Ryan made, all that skin and dark, hungry eyes. Shane would give Ryan whatever he wanted, but oh, to hear him beg...

“I don’t care!” Ryan whined. He reached out and pawed at Shane’s shoulders, at his chest, wanting him closer, just plain wanting him. “I’ll do anything. I want it all.”

“You can have it all, baby,” Shane said. “We can do this again and again. But what do you want _right now_?”

“Fuck me,” Ryan said, eyes wild. He reached down to wrap his hand around Shane’s cock and gave it a stroke, grip tight and perfect. Shane groaned and rolled his hips, fucking Ryan’s hand. Ryan rubbed his thumb across Shane’s cockhead, smearing the leaking precome. “God Shane, put your dick in me. I want it, I think about it all the time.”

“Me too,” Shane replied, breathless, “Me too.”

But logic was fighting its way past the lust clouding Shane’s brain, insistent and loud. Shane bit his bottom lip.

“I-I didn’t pack anything, I didn’t expect -”

“My bag,” Ryan gasped. “Side pocket.”

Shane scrambled to get off the bed, smirking the whole way. “Did you have designs on my virtue this entire time?”

“What virtue?” Ryan asked. “And yes, I did.”

“Did you have a plan?” Shane held up the lube and condom package triumphantly. He rejoined Ryan on the bed, setting both items next to them. Despite having just asked a question, he pulled Ryan into a kiss. This one was sweeter, gentler, because as fucking hot as all this was, Shane was more than a little in love with this guy. He pressed a kiss to the tip of Ryan’s nose, the corner of his mouth. He moved down to Ryan’s neck, sucking and kissing as he went, until he reached Ryan’s collarbone. He nibbled on it, and dipped his tongue into the notch between Ryan’s collarbones.

“I did, I did have a plan,” Ryan gasped. “I was - I was going to wait until you were asleep and climb into your lap.”

“You little slut,” Shane said approvingly, and Ryan arched against Shane.

“I want to suck you,” Ryan said. Shane wasn’t going to say no to an offer like that, so he backed up, giving Ryan room to sit up. They switched places, with Shane stretching out on the bed and Ryan over him. He didn’t waste any time, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip. He wrapped his mouth around Shane’s cock and swallowed him down. Shane made a high-pitched noise he’d deny to the end of his days, reaching out to grab Ryan’s hair, half aware of the way it curled around Shane’s fingers.

“Mmmh,” Ryan moaned around him. He flicked his gaze up to meet Shane’s and stared unblinking at him as he bobbed his head. Drool and precome were easing the way, pooling on the hand Ryan had wrapped around the base of Shane’s cock. Shane closed his eyes, overwhelmed by what he was seeing, the way Ryan looked _blissful_ with Shane’s cock in his mouth, like nothing else existed outside what was in his mouth.

The wet, hungry sucking noises were bringing Shane closer to coming than he’d like. So he caressed Ryan’s cheek, thumbed at the corner of Ryan’s mouth, wiping some of the drool and precome away.

“That’s enough,” Shane said, but Ryan didn’t stop, continued to whine around Shane’s cock like he couldn’t get enough. “Ryan, _stop_.”

The stern command worked. Ryan’s eyes flicked open and he pulled off with a loud slurp. He looked dazed, his mouth swollen and red. He stared at Shane with wide, watery eyes, uncomprehending.

“I thought you wanted me to f-fuck you,” Shane said, trembling. Ryan’s mouth was _right there_ , it’d be so easy to just pull him back down on Shane’s cock. He’d probably love it.

“ _Please_ ,” Ryan whined. He sat up quickly, one hand reaching down to wrap around his cock.

“Jesus, Ryan, you’re so wet,” Shane said, surprised. He was red and leaking copiously. Shane wondered, distantly, if he could just use Ryan’s precome as lube to get him ready. He felt a jolt of heat low in his belly at the thought of stretching Ryan out with his own come.

Ryan made a punched out sound and hunched over. He twisted his hand as he stroked himself, once, twice. “S’because of you.”

Shane batted his hand away. “Stop that. I don’t want you coming until I’m inside you.”

Ryan whined again, face going slack with pleasure. Shane made a mental note about the dirty talk, about other things that might make Ryan desperate.

“How do you want to do this?” Shane asked. He reached out and cupped Ryan’s cheek, slid his hand down until his hand formed a V just below Ryan’s neck, fingers and thumb curled over his collarbones. Ryan pressed into his touch.

“On my back,” Ryan said instantly. “I want to see you.”

They switched places again. Ryan handed Shane a pillow to put under his hips and then lay toward the center of the bed. He stretched his arms out and grabbed the headboard without being told, and another note was added to Shane’s mental folder about Ryan in bed. He opened the condom package and rolled it on quickly, knowing it’d be easier to do now than after he gets lube all over.

“Good boy,” he praised, trying it out, and was pleased when Ryan shivered. Ryan was full of anxiety all the time. He liked being made to feel wanted and valued, so it was hardly a surprise that carried into the bedroom.

  
Shane could work with that. It wasn’t hard to compliment Ryan.

“Spread your legs,” Shane said, and Ryan did, making room for Shane. “Have you done this before, baby?”

“Uh, not with a person,” Ryan said. Shane looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “I have dildos at home.”

“Dildos plural?” Shane asked, blinking.

“Mm,” Ryan moaned. “Use ‘em and think of you.”

“I’m not going to survive the night,” Shane said, staring off into space. Dead at 33 of a heart attack. Jesus, what an image. “I want to watch you use them on yourself someday.”

“Later,” Ryan said impatiently. “Give me your dick, dude.”

Shane playfully slapped Ryan’s thigh. Ryan arched into the touch, crying out. “Can the attitude, _dude_.”

“Sorry,” Ryan panted.

Shane uncapped the lube and spread it over his fingers. He rubbed them together, trying to warm it up slightly, before reaching down and pressing his finger against Ryan’s hole. He rubbed the tip of his finger against it. Ryan took several deep breaths and relaxed, so Shane slid his finger in. Ryan grew increasingly louder with each additional finger Shane put in him, until he was squirming and swearing under his breath as Shane pressed on his prostate.

“Now, now, now,” Ryan chanted. “Stick in me. I _need_ it, Shane, put your cock in me.”

With trembling fingers, Shane squirted more lube onto his hand, this time for his cock. He grunted at how good his hand felt spreading the lube on his cock. He was leaking now too, shaking with how badly he wanted this. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Ryan’s for a moment, breathing in the same air. Shane brushed a kiss against Ryan’s eyelids and then lined his cock up. He pressed in slowly, knowing despite the prep that he was on the bigger side.

“Yes,” Ryan hissed. His mouth hung open, panting into Shane’s face. The head of Shane’s cock made it past the ring of Ryan’s entrance and Shane let his head hang down as a needy whine escaped him. He pressed in further, feeling Ryan’s body stretching, opening up around him. Shane’s balls pressed against Ryan’s when he bottomed out. Shane paused there, overwhelmed by the heat and grasp of Ryan’s body.

Ryan wrapped his legs around Shane’s hips, keeping him close. They lay there, trembling. Finally, Ryan kissed the corner of Shane’s eye where his beauty mark was, and said, “What’s taking so long? Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Cheeky,” Shane muttered, but obligingly began to move. He rolled his hips in tiny little thrusts at first, listening to Ryan’s breathy moans. Ryan tightened his grip on the headboard and started using it as leverage to rock back onto Shane’s cock, so he went faster, fucked harder, and Ryan started making even louder noises. Shane reached out and buried his hand in Ryan’s hair again, tugging on it, and Ryan let out such a loud moan that Shane, acting purely on instinct, cast a muffling charm on the windows.

As though just waiting for it to be acknowledged, Shane’s magic surged to join with Ryan’s, creating a feedback loop. Shane could feel how much Ryan was enjoying this, the kind of good that left a person trembling and wordless, lost to it. They were so wrapped in each other that Shane didn’t have to ask, didn’t have to say what he wanted. Ryan unwrapped his legs from Shane’s waist so Shane could shove them up and over his shoulders, until Ryan was held open even more.

Shane fucked into him even harder, lost to the feel of Ryan’s body around his cock. The headboard slammed into the wall, Ryan’s hands still pressed against it. He continued to use it for leverage, fucking himself back into Shane’s cock. Shane was getting close, orgasm a wire winding tighter and tighter in his gut. Shane’s hold body was tingling now and the air smelled like sex and flowers, like the plants Shane had stashed throughout his room were all blooming at once.

“Getting close,” Shane said hoarsely, “Shit, you feel so good on my cock. You going to come for me? Going to come from my cock alone?”

Ryan made an indescribable noise. “Yes, yes, like that, fuck me, make me come -”

It was hard to take notice of anything outside of the tight clutch of Ryan around his cock. Still, when Ryan made a curious, surprised noise, Shane looked up from where he’d been watching his cock thrust into Ryan. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and his mouth fell open a little. A trailing vine from the plants had curled around Ryan’s wrists. The vines were delicate and they weren’t wrapped tightly, but just the fact they were _there_. Shane’s hips slowed their pace slightly.

“No, no, don’t stop, please -”

And another vine curled delicately around Ryan’s throat, looped around twice, just resting there, a single bloom aligned so it lay in the center of Ryan’s neck like a necklace charm.

“Um,” Shane rasped.

“It’s fine, it’s good, _Shane_ , move, I’m so close,” Ryan looked up at him, his eyelashes clumped together from sweat. His fingers were white with how hard he was pressing on the headboard. So Shane gave his boy what he wanted and fucked into him harder, angling his hips to hit Ryan’s prostate. Shane could tell he found it when Ryan tightened around him. Ryan tilted his head back, the plant around his throat a vibrant green against the color of his skin, his hands taking care not to pull away from the fragile vines despite everything else, and he came with a loud wail.

Ryan spasmed around Shane’s cock, clenching down on him, and Shane let out a noise that hurt his throat. He fucked into Ryan, desperate to come, unable to think of anything else but the way Ryan was milking Shane’s cock, and when he came, black spots danced in front of his eyes.

When he came to, he was lying on top of Ryan, hips still twitching like his body hadn’t gotten the memo to stop.

Shane shuffled over so he wasn’t lying directly on Ryan. Ryan’s cheeks were flushed a deep red, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. A tired, pleased smile curled his full lips. He looked absolutely _wrecked_. Shane reached up and traced the vine around his throat before cupping the back of Ryan’s head and gently lifting it with one hand, and unwinding the vine with the other. He did the same with Ryan’s wrists, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of his inner wrists after freeing them.

He laid his head on Ryan’s chest, and together, they breathed.

Eventually Shane rolled out of bed. He discarded the condom into the garbage by the door and slipped into an old robe. The entire house was quiet, though he could still hear the distant sound of music. When he returned with a lukewarm washcloth to clean Ryan off, he found him holding up the long vines of the trailing plant, looking thoughtful.

Shane didn’t say anything, only held up the washcloth as a heads up, and began gently wiping Ryan down. Shane pressed a kiss to Ryan’s left knee and then turned to cleaning himself up. Eventually, Ryan sighed and pushed the vine off the bed and onto the floor.

“I think I did that,” He said, not looking at Shane.

“I don’t think it was me,” Shane agreed. “But it was - it was - _really_ hot, Ryan.”

Ryan’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “Learned something new about myself.”

“So did I.”

Shane tossed the dirty washcloth near the clothes he’d worn yesterday from the airport - the start of his laundry pile - and climbed into bed. Ryan immediately tucked himself against Shane’s side, pressing his face into Shane’s neck. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Ryan’s head.

“Thanks for bringing me home with you,” Ryan said quietly. Shane reached up and began to rub Ryan’s head with the tips of his finger. Ryan made a happy sound and exhaled sleepily against Shane’s throat.

Softly, Shane spoke. “You’re my home.”

“I don’t want you to be where you’re not happy.”

“I’m not. I promise. I have Unsolved, and I have you.” Shane pressed his face into Ryan’s hair and breathed in the smell of his shampoo and sweat. He _did_ have Ryan, and it made something inside him glow with happiness.

“But what about a coven?”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Ryan lifted his head out of Shane’s neck. He looked at Shane’s face, expression serious. Ryan reached out and brushed the tip of his finger against Shane’s cheek, where a five o’clock shadow was just starting to form. Shane smiled at him, utterly smitten.

“Love you, big guy.” Ryan leaned forward and brushed his lips against Shane’s and then pressed their foreheads together. Shane’s heart clenched.

“Love you too, little guy.”

* * *

Shane pretended not to see Scott’s knowing smirks over the breakfast table the next morning. It was more difficult to ignore Sherry’s beaming and Mark’s lowkey, pleased smiles. It’s not that he was upset that they were so clearly happy for him, but the gushing was too much and Ryan’s pleased little blushes were killing Shane slowly. So Shane, desperate for a change of subject before his mother starts to ask about their wedding plans, met Scott’s eyes across the table and said,

“So you wanted to talk to me about something?”

It was an effective topic change. Shane’s mom stopped interrogating Ryan about his life, her face going through several different emotions. She settled on a sad smile. Mark took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. Shane leaned forward in anticipation for what looked like big news.

“Looks like you won’t be the only Madej on the west coast. I’m moving out there in January.”

Shane’s eyebrows rose as his eyes widened in surprise. He looked to his parents for confirmation. His dad gave a single nod. No wonder his mom looked so sad - her other son was taking off, too, far outside her reach.

“That’s awesome,” Ryan said, grinning. “We can show you the best restaurants and bars.”

“Thanks, man,” Scott said, smiling back.

“Do you have someplace to stay?” Shane asked. “You could -”

“I am _not_ staying with you,” Scott said firmly. “We’d kill each other within a week. But more than that, I wouldn’t last a day with the two of you being all over each other.”

“That’s homophobic,” Shane joked.

“It’s not the kissing and the romantic shit,” Scott explained to Ryan, completely ignoring Shane. “That’s fucking cute. Shane’s at his most stupid when he’s in love. But if I have to listen to the two of you banging it out, I’ll set myself on fire.”

“.....Fair,” Ryan nodded. “If I had to listen to my brother -”

He grimaced.

Shane thought about listening to Scott having sex and joined in on the grimacing. With Ryan living with roommates, Shane’s place was really going to be their only option, unless they wanted to be quiet. Shane eyed Ryan. Could Ryan be quiet? Judging by last night, it didn’t seem likely. Though there were ways to make sure. Shane tugged on the neckline of his shirt and shifted in his seat, aware of his dad sitting just to his left.

Something to think on later, Shane decided, and turned back to the conversation.

“ - probably easier to drag his ass in,” Scott concluded.

“Between you and me it’ll definitely be easier,” Ryan agreed. He’d pushed aside his plate and was now cradling his coffee cup. “He can’t be a shy wallflower forever.”

“Are you talking about me?” Shane asked, pointing at himself.

“Duh,” Ryan said, “What other shy wallflowers do you know?”

“I object to you two making plans involving me without my input -”

“You were sitting right there, it’s not our fault you tuned out,” Ryan argued.

“It’s for your own good,” Scott added, taking a large bite out of a strip of bacon.

“I’m not agreeing to anything until you explain,” Shane warned. He could be _incredibly_ stubborn when he wanted to be, which they both knew, and if they thought he could be dragged to some sort of sports thing they’re both dead wrong. Shane had already resigned himself to sports on his television at home, to Ryan’s Laker memorabilia taking up valuable space on his walls and in his closet. To submit to the indignity of watching a game live didn’t bear thinking about.

“We’re talking about joining a local coven,” Ryan explained. “If Scott and I are both part of it, we thought you’d be more likely to give it a real try.”

“Especially if it’s a smaller one,” Scott said. “Gotta keep your dumb ass healthy.”

“I’m plenty healthy,” Shane said, and took a loud sip of his coffee to avoid the disbelieving looks being sent his way.

“Ignoring your magic and what it needs isn’t smart or healthy,” Sherry said. “I made your brother promise to look out for you.”

“Gross,” Shane said.

“It’s going to be awesome,” Scott said cheerfully.

All jokes aside, it kind of did sound awesome. Family, new and old. Connections.

* * *

It was their first day back in the office after their small vacation, and it felt good to be here. They’d come in together, quietly wondering if anyone would notice. It _felt_ like they were being obvious - walking closer together, smiling at each other more. Ryan was even wearing Shane’s shirt, the blue one with ‘Chicago’ in big red letters, the material of the sleeves stretching across Ryan’s muscles. Other than that, it was slightly too big on him, and Shane knew he’d worn it to the office before.

But nobody was looking. It was weird to feel like something monumental had changed in his life and it could go unseen. Like people should be able to take one look at him and know he was with Ryan now.

Shane watched as Ryan gently set the potted plant down on his work desk. He’d shoved aside his spare headphones, an old coffee cup (empty), a stress ball, and a small Kobe bobblehead to make room for the little plant. He’d situated it on the side of his desk opposite Shane’s, between his own computer and Andrew’s.

“I want to take care of it by myself,” Ryan had said insistently when they’d been browsing for something easy to care for. “I mean, I’ll probably need your help at some point, but I want to try.”

Ryan grabbed his Paddington Bear doll - the one he kept at his office, not the one he kept at home - and set it so it was leaning against the little plant. Ryan put his hands on his hips, surveying his work. Seemingly satisfied, Ryan leaned forward to brush one of the plant’s green leaves. A tiny white flower bloomed suddenly, its soft petals unfurling against Ryan’s fingers.

Ryan smiled.

“Makes my hand tingle,” he said, and the brush of his magic against Shane’s felt like the warmth of the sun.


	9. Epilogue

The sun wasn’t even completely over the horizon, so the Beltane bonfires hadn’t been lit. Shane had coaxed Ryan out of the house with the promise of something truly special. People would start arriving soon for the celebration, so they wouldn’t be able to really linger. Perhaps he should have chosen another night for this, but the Sabbats always made Shane feel extra...everything. More connected to the world around him, to his magic and the magic that could be found in nature.

It’d been six months since they’d been here last, and he’d spent it thinking of ways to make the trip back to Chicago special. He thought he’d hit upon a pretty good idea.

The wind rustled through the trees as they walked through the woods that surrounded his parents property. Crickets and spring peepers made their usual noises, lending a soundtrack to their walk. They were heading for a small clearing not too far out - well within shouting distance, but private enough for Shane’s needs.

Shane glanced at Ryan, who was peering through the trees of the forest with some nervousness. Like a bigfoot was going to leap out and club him on the head. Shane chuckled and shook his head when Ryan turned to glance inquiringly at him. He reached out and took Ryan’s hand, threading their fingers together. Ryan drifted close, tucking himself against Shane’s side, most likely to steal his body heat.

They were coming up on the clearing when Ryan stopped and stared into the brush.

“What the hell is _that_?”

Shane followed where he was pointing to a fat little animal on the ground. It was frozen in place, eyeing them warily. A little bit of grass was sticking out of its mouth, like they’d caught it mid-chew.

“That is the fattest squirrel I’ve ever seen,” Ryan said, squinting at it in the dimming light.

“A - a squirrel.” Shane tilted his head back, laughing into the sky, “Ryan, that’s a woodchuck.”

“A what?”

“A fucking - fuckin’ groundhog, man.”

Ryan continued to stare at it. It stared back. The man Shane loved was having a face off against a rodent, in the woods behind his family’s house. Slowly, the animal began to chew again.

“Look at its fat little butt,” Shane whispered. “A roly-poly lardball.”

“It’s pretty cute,” Ryan conceded. “But I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like it?” Shane wheezed. Ryan turned to look up at him, cheeks pink.

“Shut up, Shane,” he mumbled, and marched forward, dragging Shane behind him. “It’s cold and getting dark. I’m _hungry_. I am in no mood to encounter strange animals.”

“Strange animals -” Shane giggled.

“I will leave you here, don’t think I won’t,” Ryan threatened.

“No, no,” Shane said, tugging on Ryan’s hand until he slowed down, until he was once again tucked against Shane’s side, stealing his warmth. He’d stolen Shane’s cable knit sweater again, but Shane was wearing Ryan’s beanie, so he supposed it all evened out in the end. “We’re almost there.”

The clearing was completely empty when they stepped into it. Ryan looked completely unimpressed but followed gamely when Shane led him into the middle of it. A wooden fence marked the end of their property line, barely visible over the weeds growing around it. A few feet away, Shane saw a flicker of light, and knew it was time.

“Hey, Ry,” Shane said, smiling down at his boyfriend.

“What’s up, big guy?”

“Remember when you said you’d never seen fireflies before?”

“Yes,” Ryan said slowly. He glanced around at the field. Shane knew there were barely any out there just yet, just a few flickers against the growing darkness. Shane rubbed his thumb against the back of Ryan’s hand and threw his magic out, like a big net, and tugged. The number of fireflies slowly grew, little sparks of light against the blue of night, and Shane pulled out his phone to record a little video for posterity. It took ten minutes or so until the entire field was filled with them. Ryan’s eyes grew and his mouth dropped open.

“ _Shane_ ,” he breathed.

“Ta da!” Shane said, smiling. Ryan detangled himself from Shane and took a few steps more into the clearing. The light of the fireflies were reflected in his dark eyes as some flew close. “You really only get this good a view if you’re far from -”

Shane broke off when Ryan turned and ran back to him, slamming into Shane with enough force to knock him back a step or two. Ryan grabbed the collar of his green flannel and yanked him down into a wet kiss. Shane steadied himself on the uneven ground and kissed Ryan back, the love and wonder of the moment flowing between them.

“You’re unbelievable,” Ryan mumbled between kisses. “With your stupidly handsome face and soft hair and big hands -”

“Ryan,” Shane breathed, using those big hands to pull Ryan right up against him. Ryan pressed his face to Shane’s chest, right over his heart, and kept mumbling.

“- smile that makes your eyes squint, god damn it Shane, I love you like breathing.”

Shane buried his face in Ryan’s hair and ran the tip of his finger over the curve of Ryan’s ear. He breathed Ryan in, his shampoo and the smell of Shane’s cologne on the sweater, and it was easy as anything to say,

“I love you like magic - vital and part of me.”

Ryan dug his fingers into Shane’s ribs, making him jump at the unexpected tickling. Ryan grinned. “Yeah, exactly.”

“ _instead of slowing down, i just shine brighter_ ” - **a softer world**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all my readers for leaving kudos and wonderful comments on this fic. It means a lot to me, especially since this is my first fic in the fandom.
> 
> I also want to thank the Shyan Shipping Society server for pushing me to post and bringing so much happiness to me :)
> 
> The image of the fireflies was [taken from here](https://www.flickr.com/photos/flint-hill/5869558966/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover Art for "fireflies where my caution should be"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28316676) by [escriveine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/escriveine/pseuds/escriveine)




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